3 Carry on Wayward Road, Wayward Soul
by skyyador
Summary: we've traveled through Dean and Sam's minds, now time to see what John Winchester held in his. TRIGGER WARNINGS, strong adult language, child abuse, sexual language, non con rape. Very explicit content read at your own risk (no I don't believe John was this bad, it's just a story) EDITED for minor corrections and paragraph length
1. Chapter 1

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **THE WAYWARD SOUL**

CHAPTER 1

 _Ring, ring_

"Hello? Yes, this is Mr. Smith. Yes sir, I'm sorry I think I've misplaced the directions could you give me the address again." Dean picks up a napkin and pen sitting beside him in the car and starts to write. "uh huh, yes sir. We'll check it out. Okay thank you."

 _Click_

"Who was that?" Sam asked.

"It was a self-storage facility. They said Dad's storage room has been broken into and I was his contact number."

Sam looked at Dean, confused about what he said. "Storage room?"

"Yeah, I didn't know about it either. Looks like we're changing paths, Sammy, let's go check it out."

The boys made a u turn and headed to the address Dean was given on the phone. Once they arrived at the location, they found a room that had a white garage door that had been bent at the bottom, with a broken lock.

"Mr. Smith?" the voice from the phone said, they turned to see a man walking in their direction.

"Yes sir" Dean said turning toward the man.

"I'm sorry about this inconvenience, I don't think anything was taken, it doesn't appear they were able to get into the room. There have been several break ins in the area lately." The man explained.

"Okay, we'll check it out, thank you." Replied Dean. The man walked away and the boys walked into the room.

They were shocked to see the belongings in there. It was a personal storage unit. Inside they found Sammy's basinet that he used as a baby, inside it, his blanket and favorite teddy bear. As they looked around Dean saw his blanket, his 'blankie', tucked away on a shelf. There were family pictures, baby clothes. This storage room held memories. Memories of the life they lived. Memories of their child hood. Memories of their mom. It appeared, as though, when they moved from the home that their mom burned in, their dad had stored all the important belongings in this storage room, or perhaps it was the only belongings left.

The boys looked around the room, shocked by the items their dad had been storing. Most of it, Sam didn't remember, but Dean reminisced as he ran his hand across the boxes and belongings sitting on the shelves, stopping to read the labels of belongings on the boxes. Family albums, birth certificates, wedding items. There was a box labeled 'Mary's clothing'. Dean paused to open the lid, he shifted through the clothing items, remembering some of them as clothing his mom had worn. He then continued to observe the stored items. He stopped when he saw a box labeled 'journals'.

"Sam," Dean spoke. "What do you think Dad would say if he knew we found out about this room?"

"Well," Sam replied, "He did put you down as a contact so I'd guess he would expect we find out about it sooner or later."

While Sam spoke, Dean pulled the box of journals off the shelf. Giving Sam a look of approval, "what do you think he would say about this?" Dean asked, showing Sam the label on the box.

"Journals?" Sam said, surprised.

"Yeah, that's what it says." Dean answered as he sat the box on the floor, sitting beside it. He opened the lid, a little hesitant. Sam sat beside him, equally as curious about the contents the box held. Dean reached in and picked up one of the journals from the box, looking at the dates first, picking up the one with the earliest date.

Dean began to read it out loud. It started with the memories of days after Mary's death. It was filled with his heartache and pain.

"I'm not sure what to do without her. I need her, our boys need her. She did so much to take care of this family. She held this family together. I haven't raised the boys, Mary has. Thankfully, Dean was smart enough to always want to help with his little brother. He has helped me, showed me things I didn't know about taking care of baby Sam."

Honestly, Dean was a little shocked to see his dad call him smart. He didn't think his dad ever noticed what he had done for Sammy, but he did, at least a little.

"He is so cute, he looks so much like my Mary. God, I miss her. I miss her so much. I know Dean misses her too. He won't say he does. He tries not to cry but, I've heard him cry, silently, sometimes at night and sometimes in the bathroom when he showers. That kid is so strong! He's stronger than I could ever be. He has done so much, keeping me and baby Sam held together."

The boys continued to read, each of them having different passages catching their attention. Dean noticing all the good things John had to say about him, things he had never heard before. Sam, filling the curiosity of his childhood. They both sat on the floor of the storage room, reading the words their dad had written, his heart, his soul, in their hands, written out in black and white.

"Today was a hard day. I met with some hunters today. I still don't completely understand everything that's going on, but I'm learning. I hate that I leave the boys alone for so long, but Dean does good taking care of Sam. He's grown up so fast. Mary would be proud of them both. We'll be celebrating Sam's first birthday soon. It won't be much of a celebration, not without their mom."

There appeared to be water spots on the paper, perhaps dried tears. "Dean had a birthday too. I can't believe he's 5 already. I've taught him how to shoot a gun and use a knife properly. I had to. I had to make sure he's able to take care of Sam. The kid picked it up fast, he's a natural at it. He does good taking care of him, but it's overwhelming, sometimes, with both the boys. Sam, I can understand Sam crying but Dean, he always complains about stupid shit. It gets on my nerves."

Sam couldn't miss the change in Dean's tone as he continued to read. "I couldn't handle it today when I got home after the long meeting with the hunters, Dean was bitching about something stupid, complaining about being hungry or some shit like that. Couldn't that kid see how tired I was? How stressed I was? I may have taken it a little too far. But he wouldn't make Sam stop crying. I told him several times to shut him up but he wouldn't. All I heard was a bunch of excuses, all the reasons why he couldn't make him stop. He made me so mad!"

Dean remembered this day and his hands trembled with his voice as he read. "I jumped off the bed and I backhanded him harder than I meant to. I didn't mean to hit him hard enough to make him fall to the floor, but he quit his damn bitching! I picked Sam up, and told Dean to dry his eyes and make his brother a bottle. I sat on the bed, holding my baby boy. He is so cute. He is the thing that keeps me going, the light in this dark life. I fed him the bottle Dean fixed and he fell asleep in my arms. His sweet little hands, tiny fingers. He has his mom's nose, and her smile. I fell asleep admiring his adorableness. It's so comforting holding my youngest son in my arms."

Sam noticed the growing sadness filling Dean's eyes as they took turns reading the passages in their dad's journal. Partly, Dean missed his mom all over again, but partly he missed his dad. The dad he used to know, his real dad, not the drill Sargant he became. His dad's words had gone from admiring how much Dean put into the family, how much he helped, how strong he was, how smart he was, to not mentioning him at all, only concentrating on Sammy.

"Sam walked today. I can't believe how big he's getting. He looks so cute wobbling around. He still hasn't figured out how to keep his balance without wobbling. Man, I love that little boy. I couldn't imagine my life without him. There's no wrong that baby could ever do. He's filled with so much innocence."

"Dean pissed me off again today, seems that's all that kid does anymore. His dumb ass woke me up. I've been hunting the past couple days, all I wanted to do was take a nap, I don't understand how that kid can't understand something so simple. He's just going to have to learn how to be more obedient. How to follow my orders better. I swear, I'll beat the lessons in him if that's what it takes. It does him good. It teaches him character. It helps him learn to be strong, he's going to need that on hunts. He has to be strong to be able to protect Sammy."

After sitting and reading through the first journal the words swirling in Dean's head had become too much. "Hey Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"How about we take these back to a room, and grab some food, I'm getting hungry."

Sam shrugged his shoulders, followed by "Sounds good to me."

The boys put the journal back in the box, covering it with the lid, they retrieved a new lock from the trunk of their car, closing the door to the room and securing it with the lock. They placed the box of books in the back seat and headed down the road.

They found a local bar that Dean decided to stop at. After ordering some food and having a couple rounds of drinks, Dean was beginning to feel better, happier, more like his normal self. He played some darts and flirted with the bar tender. Sam, getting tired of being at the bar, ready to head to a room, had to drag Dean out of the bar. He was lit already, but insisted they stop at a liquor store before getting a room. Sam didn't question it, he pulled into the parking lot to allow his brother his normal night of drinking.

He knew he was heartbroken from all the things they had read, and seeing the room full of memories. They have had a rough past couple month, both of them, but especially Dean, he has been on the biggest emotional rollercoaster of his life. He had opened up himself to Sammy like never before, gave him way more information about their lives than he ever expected. Now, sitting in the back seat of the impala, was a box filled with more memories, more heartaches.

After making his purchase Dean returned to the car, ready to get a room for the night. Sam insisted on driving even though Dean was sure he was sober enough to drive, Sam wasn't going to hear it and took the keys from Dean while he was flirting with the bartender at the bar. Dean was a little sour about it, but let his brother have his way. Sam stopped at a nearby motel, stepping inside to pay for a room and returning to the car with the key, finding Dean sitting in the seat, shades on, even though the sun was down, a bottle of Jack opened and half-drunk before Sam could get a room and return. He just shook his head. He hated when Dean drank the way he did. He had told Dean this before, but tonight Dean didn't seem to care.

Once inside, they dropped their bags at the door and sat the box on the bed closest to the door, Dean's bed. Dean kicked his boots off and stretched out on the bed, propped against the wall, his mostly drunk bottle of Jack in hand.

"I'm going to take a shower." Sam announced.

"Whatever you want." Dean replied.

Sam gathered his belongings and went into the bathroom to shower and put on some clean boxers and shirt for bed. Dean, stretched out on the bed, finishing his bottle of booze, staring at the box that was sitting at his feet. He had gotten up to retrieve the bottles he got at the store, sat them beside him, figuring there was no point in only grabbing one bottle at a time since he had plans on drinking everything he had bought.

His dad's words swirling around in his head. Everything good he had to say about his little brother. He knew Sam was his favorite, but to see it, in writing, only gave him proof that he was right. Dean used to be Dad's favorite. He used to be his one and only. They had always been close. Dad did so much with him, before Sammy was born, before Mom died, before he became a hunter instead of a father. He didn't realize Sam had finished his shower and came back into the room. He had almost finished his second bottle, still staring at the box on the bed.

"Dean?"

"Huh?"

"You think you've had enough to drink?" Sam asked, knowing he was already drunk before leaving the bar.

"Damn, Sammy, why can't you ever just let me be?" Dean replied, irritated that his brother would always point out how much he drank, just like Dad, always pointing out the things he didn't approve of. Sam just rolled his eyes, not wanting to get into an argument over it, he sat on the edge of the bed.

"You gonna take a shower?"

"In the morning."

Sam sat in silence for a moment before asking "You wanna read anymore, of… the journals, tonight?"

"Yeah, sure." Dean said, opening the box, pulling out the journal dated after the first one they had read, he tossed it to Sammy, "You read it, my vision is a little blurry". Sam agreed, Dean had to be feeling hammered by now, even though he kept drinking. Cracking open his next bottle, Dean settled back against the wall to listen to the words Sammy read.


	2. Chapter 2

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **WAYWARD SOUL**

CHAPTER 2

"I wish Mary was here to see how much her little baby has grown. He wakes me up in the mornings, crawling on my bed, giving me big hugs and kisses. I love the way he giggles. The smiles he brings all the time. I hate when I have to go on hunts and leave him alone, with Dean, but I hate even more when I have to take him on hunts with him. I do what I have to, to keep him safe. Dean doesn't understand it, he gets mad at me, but I've told him a hundred times what I do is for the best. He just doesn't seem to have the brains to understand that. He only sees what he wants to. He expects everything to go his way."

Sam was already regretting the fact he had started the new journal. "I love little Sammy crawling in my bed and snuggling, but I've told Dean a thousand times, when I'm home I have to rest. I stay busy with the hunts. He doesn't seem to care, or understand. He always has some excuse, 'I just went to the bathroom' or 'I didn't know he was awake yet', my favorite is 'I was sleeping', I'm like no shit kid, I was sleeping too!"

Sam paused to give a glance toward Dean, making sure he was still doing okay. "I've been teaching him how to be tough. How to be able to handle a little pain. He needs to be tougher than what he is if he's going to be a good hunter. And, he will be a good hunter! No boy of mine is going to be weak! I try to beat some sense into him. It doesn't seem to work. No matter what I do to that kid he doesn't seem to get any smarter. He's great at being a mom. He's good at keeping the place clean and taking care of a baby, if I could only get him to apply himself that much in being a man he might end up being okay. Instead he just wants to be a girl, doing the woman's work around the house."

Another pause, another glance toward Dean. He was till pouring his sorrow into the bottom of the bottle. "Pastor Jim told me to go a little easier on him, 'he's only 7' he says, but what does age matter? He can still get himself killed on a hunt no matter his age. I think I may have given him another concussion today. He still seems a bit out of it, but it makes him tough, helps him learn what he needs to survive. Being a hunter isn't easy. I worked on training him again today. Woke him up early, before his little brother woke, told him to give me 50 pushups. He wanted to start crying about it after only 10. Said it hurt, from what I'm sure is some broken ribs I gave him yesterday, but how does he expect to survive if he can't even handle a couple broken ribs?"

Sam couldn't help but release a sigh with a deep breath as he continued reading their dad's words. "I finally got all 50 out of him, wasn't easy, he wanted to whine around about them, about the pain, about being too tired. The damn kid doesn't know what pain is. He pisses me off so much sometimes. I stomped on his head, forcing it into the floor, holding it there for a moment, with all the pressure I could. In my mind I was waiting to see his head pop, I lost myself for a moment, but I let him back up, to finish the pushups I told him to do. The dumb ass kid wanted to cry, had fucking tears dripping from his eyes. He finished them, but not without tears."

Sam could feel the anger boil inside of him as he read. "When he was done I yanked him off the floor and dragged him to the sink, to look at his sorry ass in the mirror, to see what a cry baby he was. He just had me so mad, I shoved his head into the mirror. It shattered the mirror but I didn't see any big cuts or pieces of glass in his head so I told him to shower to get any glass out of his hair. Sammy woke up while he was in the shower. He always woke up with such a smile. He told me he was hungry, so I took him to the diner to eat. The waitress flirted with him, all the women flirt with him. He is just the sweetest thing ever!"

His words changed from anger toward Dean to adoration toward Sam. "I didn't realize until we got back to the room that I had forgotten about Dean. Not like it really mattered. The kid needs to learn how to miss a few meals, it will make him stronger in the end."

Sam stopped reading. Tears filling his eyes, making it difficult to see the words. He was shocked at the way his dad talked about him compared to what he said about Dean. Dean had told him this, but he had always thought maybe Dean just exaggerated things, but reading his dad's words, he realized Dean had held back. He didn't make it out to be half as bad as it really was. Dean sat on his bed, continuing to drink. He had lost all emotions. They had been drunk away. Buried with the alcohol that flooded his body. He sat, listening to the words but not reacting.

"Dean?"

"Don't, Sammy, just don't." Dean replied, knowing Sam was going to try to turn this into some "let's talk it out" moment. Dean didn't feel like talking, he didn't feel like feeling. He just wanted to be left alone. To let the hurt swallow, him whole.

"I'm sorry." Sam sighed.

Dean let out a loud sigh, followed by him speaking, "Sam, I told you don't." he continued, "yeah, yeah you're sorry. Sorry for what, Sammy? Sorry for our dad? Sorry for something you had no control over? Sorry for what? There is nothing for YOU to be sorry about. So, just don't, okay?" Dean sounded frustrated. He was drunk, drunk so he didn't have to feel. "You gonna continue?" he asked Sam, who hadn't started reading again. Dean was unable to look at his little brother. He didn't want to see the feelings he knew was flooded in his brother's eyes.

Sam cleared his throat, "Uh, yeah, sure." he said as he picked his father's book back up, and started reading another entry.

"Sam learned how to use the toilet, he's becoming such a big boy! I wish his big brother could be more like him. The only thing he's good for is a punching bag, something to get my frustrations out with. I went to use the bathroom today and almost got sick. There was shit in the toilet. When I questioned Dean about it he gave me some lame excuse about how Sam had used the potty and after Dean had him cleaned up he took off running through the room, Dean said he had to chase him and must have forgotten to flush the toilet."

Sam swallowed the lump in his throat to allow the words to pass. "I wasn't about to let him forget it again. I shoved his head in the shit filled toilet. If I was going to feel sick after seeing it, so was he. He started trying to fight me. So, what if the little prick couldn't breathe, he wasn't about to fight ME! I flushed the toilet with his head in it. When I pulled his head out he had shit in his hair and on his face. I told him how disgusting he was, how much I couldn't stand to see him in my face. I made him stand in the corner of the tub. I wasn't going to let him wash that shit off, I was going to make him live in it a little while, toughen him up."

"Dean?"

"Just keep reading."

"I closed the curtain to the shower so Sammy didn't have to see his nasty brother. I forgot I had him in there. Sammy and I played and had so much fun, we went for a walk, stopping to eat and I bought him some ice cream. He loves ice cream. When we got back to the room we played a little more. It wasn't until it was time to put Sammy to bed that I realized Dean wasn't there to get him to bed. I made Dean take a cold shower to wash himself off, I'd be damned if he used all the hot water so I couldn't get a decent shower."

"Dean?"

"He was drunk when that happened, Sammy. Continue."

"When he was cleaned I told him to get his brother to bed while I showered. When I was done, he had Sammy in bed and asleep. God, I miss Mary so much. I miss having the love of my life with me. I get so lonely at times. I, honestly, didn't expect things to go as far as they did. I just wanted some company, I was feeling so lonely. I told Dean to come lay beside me in my bed. I was wearing my underwear and t-shirt, the same thing he was wearing."

"Uhh."

"Drunk, remember?"

"And, that's supposed to be a good enough excuse?"

"Yes. Continue."

"When I felt the warmth of his body against mine I pulled my shirt off, then I pulled his shirt off. After enjoying the feeling for a little while I followed up my actions with our underwear. I enjoyed feeling another body against mine. I didn't realize what I was doing until I was already doing it. I had taken Dean's hand and made him rub me. I had to teach him, he didn't know what he was doing. I rubbed myself against him, from behind, getting myself aroused and had him finish it with his hand. It felt so good! I couldn't believe how good it felt, how much I missed having the close, intimate relationship with someone, with anyone."

Sam paused, running his hand down his face, shaking the emotions from himself. "I know it confused him a little. But, he'll figure it out, he'll understand. He'll be stronger, it's just another lesson he needs to learn. I didn't mean to get so pissed, but it did. After he was finished I picked him up and threw him on the floor between the beds. I told him to get his ass to bed. I couldn't believe he did what he done. Is my son gay? He's a little faggot! I can't stand him right now."

Sam cleared his throat.

"Dean."

"Stop it, Sammy, just don't."

Sam wasn't happy with that, he had seen his brother in all kinds of situations, all different levels of drunk, but tonight, tonight he noticed his brother was drunk more than he had ever seen him. Completely emotionless.

"Dean." Sam repeated.

"What?"

Sam cleared his throat again, "Dean, I… I don't know what to say, I'm sorry." Sam completed. He had so many emotions running through his veins. So much sorrow and pain. He wanted to just hold his big brother and make all the hurt go away. But he couldn't, there was no way Dean would have allowed him anywhere close to him right now. He knew he wouldn't want anyone to touch him after that, after those memories.

"Continue."

"What?"

"Continue." Dean repeated.

Sam couldn't believe Dean wanted him to continue reading the memories that must have been plaguing his mind. Following his big brother's request Sam continued to read the entries in the journal.

"Dean almost killed me today! That Damn kid almost got me bit by a vamp. He needs more training. He, obviously, needs to learn how to pay more attention. He sure does know how to give excuses. His excuse this time? He heard a noise and it drew his attention away from me for just a moment. That's all it takes is just a moment to get someone killed. Thankfully, that damn kid screwed his head back on and killed that thing before it could kill me."

"I beat the hell outta that damn kid! He pissed me off so bad, he knows better than to take his eyes off the hunt. I didn't mean to beat him so badly, but I did. I couldn't help myself. We were alone, in the middle of the woods, no one to stop me, no one to hear. Sammy wasn't around. That kid, he told me he didn't give a shit what I did to him, just not to lay a hand on Sammy. I would never hurt Sam. I love that kid too much!"

"Did you really tell him that?"

"Sam, just read."

"At least Dean was smart enough not to fight me when he's around, he's smart enough to make sure his little brother doesn't see or hear anything, that he remains strong in front of him. I hate that kid so much sometimes. After I finished punishing him for being such a dumb ass, I made him get me off. It had been so long and he feels so good. This time, I taught him how to use his mouth. He was a natural at that too. Just like a damn girl, even better. Once he finished, I felt calmer, better. I wasn't so angry. I didn't feel the hate I felt earlier. Dean stumbled back to the car. He needs to be stronger. He needs to be able to handle a bigger beating than he got. I'm going to have to start beating that kid more often, he won't be a good hunter if he can't handle a couple beatings."

Sam stopped reading. He couldn't continue. He had so many emotions, so much anger and sadness. He wasn't sure how the hell Dean was able to handle the memories. He wasn't sure how he was able to handle it happening to him in the first place. Sam's eyes filled with tears.

"Dean." Sam once again repeated.

"Damn it, Sam." Dean said with anger. "If you wanna stop then fucking stop, no one's forcing you to do anything you don't want to do, Sammy, no one… ever does." Dean trailed off.

"Dean, I'm sorry." Sam continued, "No one should have ever forced you to do anything you didn't want to do either."

"Sam, just stop! Please, just stop! It doesn't matter, okay? It doesn't matter." Dean began to trail off. He was getting lost in the memories, alcohol taking over his thoughts. "It's okay. He's right, you know. It just made me stronger. It helped me become a better hunter."

"Dean! How can you possibly believe that? How can you believe that being forced into sexual actions makes you a better hunter? Even if it did, even if Dad's beatings made you stronger, made you be able to take more than any human should have to take, doesn't make it right. It doesn't mean that anyone had the right to treat you that way, especially our dad."

"Yeah, yeah it does. Dad, he was our dad, that gave him the right to do whatever the hell he wanted to do. Sammy, you don't get it. You just don't. I kept you as sheltered as I could. I protected you from Dad's hurtful actions, and words. But, he had every right to do whatever the hell he wanted, to both of us. He was gracious enough to agree to my request to leave you alone."

Dean actually believed what he was saying. Sam was shocked. He had no words, nothing to change his beliefs. He believed his dad had every right to treat him the way he did.

"Sam, I'm done. I can't do this anymore, not tonight, okay?" Dean's voice was filled with so much pain.

"Okay," Sam agreed, "Dean? You okay? I don't mean okay, okay, but you know, okay?"

"I don't know… I don't know, Sammy. I… I've been pushed. I can't, not tonight, Sam, please… just let it stop." Dean slid his body down the wall and allowed his head to fall onto the bed. He just wanted to go to sleep, he wanted to erase the heartache he was feeling.


	3. Chapter 3

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **WAYWARD SOUL**

CHAPTER 3

The morning light shined through the window, waking the boys before they were ready to wake. Sam, giving a big stretch followed by a yawn, looking over at his brother. Dean covered his face with a pillow. Sam wasn't sure if Dean was suffering from a hangover or if he was still drunk. Either way, he wasn't prepared to pull himself out of bed yet. Sam had gotten up and used the rest room, changing into his daily clothes.

"Hey, Dean."

Dean only mumbled in response.

"Let's go grab some grub." Sam demanded more than questioned.

Dean pulled the pillow off his head and gave Sam a glance, "Go get you some food if you want." he slurred, then put the pillow back over his face.

"You need to get something in your stomach besides alcohol."

"I'm fine, Sammy."

Sam walked over to Dean's bed, pulling the covers off him, then removing the pillow over his head.

"Hey!" he shouted at Sam. "What the hell man?"

"Get up." Sam demanded.

"Bitch." Dean said as he pushed himself to a seated position on the edge of his bed.

"Jerk."

Dean managed to drag himself off the bed and into the bathroom, taking a quick shower, washing the sweat off him from the nightmares he had while he slept. He hadn't slept well, at all. What Sam didn't know, was that Dean was up most of the night, finishing off his drinks, he would doze off then be woken by a nightmare, only to drink more and repeat the following actions. He had just fallen back to sleep right before Sam woke him. He had no desire to be awake, or face the day.

Dean stepped out of the bathroom. Not allowing himself to show his exhaustion. "Let's go, bitch." he said, shooting Sam an irritated glance.

"Whatever." Sam replied under his breath.

Dean, knowing he was in no shape to drive, he threw the keys at Sam, "You drive." he said as he walked out the door.

Sam drove them to a little diner, it was after breakfast time, but before lunch, Sam and Dean were the only ones in the diner. There was a cook in the back and 2 waitresses, one washing dishes and cleaning from the breakfast crowd while beginning to prepare for the lunch crowd that would be coming soon. The other waitress took their order and refilled their drinks. The boys sat in silence, speaking only to the waitress, Dean refusing to make eye contact or even attempt to flirt.

"Dean?" Sam spoke the first words since walking out of the motel room.

"Hmm?"

"How old were you?"

"What?" Dean asked, shooting his brother a confused look, still not finding the will to make eye contact. "You're gonna have to be more specific, Sam."

"The first time… with Dad." Sam stumbled while trying to ask.

"Sam." was Dean's only response. Shutting him down, his way of telling him he didn't want to talk about it. Sam decided to drop it for the moment, but had obviously angered Dean. "Damn it, Sam!" Dean said pushing his plate away from him. He got his wallet out of his back pocket, laying down the money for their meal on the table. He had only eaten a few bites of his food, Sam was only half done. "Finish up," Dean said as he stood from his seat, "I'll walk" he added as he walked away and out of the diner.

Sam felt guilty but was more concerned than guilty. He had decided to finish his food and give his brother a few minutes to himself. Once he finished he set out to find his brother. He went to the motel room first, not finding him there, he headed toward the storage room belonging to their dad. When he pulled up he noticed the lock was removed, the door was closed but he knew his brother was inside.

He slid the door open, closing it behind him. He found his brother, sitting on the floor in tears. He had boxes sitting around him, one of them the clothing that their mother had worn when she was alive. Dean had pulled a few items out of the box. In his lap sat his special blanket from when he was a kid. He was holding a picture of him and his mom, beside him sat a few more pictures. One of Dean, their mom and dad, and one of the family right after Sam was born, he couldn't have been but a couple months old at most. They all looked so happy in the pictures. They looked like your typical happy family. Not knowing what life held for them just a few short months later.

"Dean, you okay?" Sam asked as he sat beside his big brother. Once he sat down he noticed Dean had stopped by the liquor store on his way to the storage room. He was drinking another bottle of vodka, still trying to drink away the pain. "Dean," Sam said, concerned, "You're gonna end up killing yourself if you don't slow down on your drinking." Dean didn't say anything, but the quick look he gave his brother was enough to tell him he didn't care. "Wh…what are you doing here?" Sam asked as he cleared his throat.

"Thinking."

Sam knew what it meant when his brother only gave one-word answers. "Dean, I know this can't be easy for you right now, we can leave if you want, put Dad's journals back in the room and go find something to hunt and kill."

Sam was beyond concerned about his brother. He'd seen him pushed past the edge in the last couple months, but this was different, this was like Dean had been pushed over the edge and was hanging by the threads on the end of a rope. Dean didn't reply, didn't even react to the fact his brother had spoken. He just continued to stare at the picture in his hands.

"Dean? Dean!" Sam had finally gotten his brother's attention. "Come on man, let's get out of here, let's go back to the room."

Sam knew Dean heard him, but he didn't respond. Dean didn't have any will to move. Sam stood, lightly grabbing his brother's arm, giving him a tug to stand him up. Dean, irritated, tired of everyone, including Sam, forcing him to do what he didn't want to, forcing him to live without any will, stood to appease his brother. He was dazed, drunk enough he couldn't walk straight, he grabbed the pictures he had beside him along with the bag he had gotten from the liquor store.

"Whatever." Dean replied as he stumbled to the passenger seat of the car.

They drove without a word to the motel room. Sam's irritation growing each time Dean took a drink. Sam helped his brother out of the car and into the room. He stumbled to the bathroom to relieve himself, then collapsed on his bed. The box of this dad's memories sitting at his feet, the journal Sam had read last night, sitting on the table between the beds. Dean reached over and picked the book up. With his booze in hand, he began to read where his brother had left off the night before.

"Dean broke his arm today, I'm sure it was because he fucked something up during the hunt. That boy can't ever seem to do anything right. Thankfully Sam is at Bobby's. I had to teach him a lesson. I had to teach him how to survive and how to follow orders. I found a game to play with him, a training game. He has to run and hide from me, if I catch him he gets punished. He's always been afraid of my belt. So, when I caught him, when I found his hiding place, I beat him with my belt."

Dean's words were slurred, but clear enough Sam could understand. He had paused to take another drink before continuing. "I grabbed his shirt off him, leaving whelps and cuts down his back. He was told not to yell, not to cry, not to make a sound. He couldn't even follow those simple orders. He knows he pisses me off when he doesn't follow my orders. It only made me hurt him worse. He wanted to use some lame excuse about his arm hurting. I didn't want to hear it, it doesn't matter. The monsters aren't going to care if they broke his arm or not. They aren't going to stop just because he's hurting."

Another pause for a drink. "He should learn how to keep his damn mouth shut. He has to learn how to keep quiet so he isn't heard, no matter what. I ended up putting my belt down and using my fists. He was told to fight, to get away and hide again. The dumb kid, he's so weak, too weak to be a son of mine. He only fought 3 times before giving into the punishments. I ended up having to drag that kid back to the car. He wouldn't stop bitching about hurting."

Dean paused his reading, wiping his hand down his face before continuing. "Sam turned 4 today, he looks more like his mom every day. The heartache just grows each time I look at that little one. I miss Mary so much. Sam still doesn't know anything about the life we live. That was Dean's idea. He begged me to keep it silent, to not let Sam know. It doesn't matter. It makes it easier to leave on hunts without my youngest son knowing what I'm doing."

"But today, today is Sam's day. I can't believe how hold he's getting. I can't believe it's been 3 ½ years since Mary was killed. I'm still not any closer to catching the thing that killed her. I'm not going to give up until I find it, and kill it. Dean has become a better hunter. He's becoming stronger day by day. My training is paying off. That boy can take one hell of a beating and keep going. He's also learned how to follow my orders better. He's damn good in bed, better than any girl I've been with. I want so badly to take things further with him, I just can't bring myself to do it, not yet anyhow."

Dean's voice cracked, that was something he wasn't prepared to read. "The games I've been playing with him have gotten better. He has learned how to hide better, he lasts longer without screaming, secretly I like to hear him scream. I like to see how much pain I can cause him, how many injuries he can take, before screaming. Each time he gets better and better at it. I've started leaving Sam with others while Dean and I hunt, those are the times I can really train Dean. I don't have to worry about Sam hearing him scream or seeing anything. I have everyone believing he's just a bad hunter, that's where all his injuries come from. He's such a screw up anyhow, it wasn't hard to make everyone believe that."

Dean stopped reading again, unable to see the words clearly. He had drunk more since they've been there than he can remember. He's not even sure if he's ever drunk this much. He handed the book to Sam, "Here," he said, "I can't see the words anymore," he took another gulp of his drink, finishing yet another bottle. Continuing, "finish reading, Sam, finish the book."

Sam was a little concerned about his brother's drinking combined with his will to fill his own head with all the painful memories. Okay, he was more than just a little concerned. He had realized Dad had said that he had just turned 4, which made Dean only 8 years old. Eight. Years. Old. Sam was shocked, that's such a young age. He cleared his throat.

"Um, Dean." He paused to collect himself "Dean you were only 8 years old, in that last entry, you were only 8 years old."

"Yeah, so?"

"Dean, that's so young, I'm so sorry… I don't know what to say, Dean, you were so young."

"You've already said that. Age is just a number. You heard what he said, it made me a better hunter, made me stronger, like I've said before, Sam, neither of us have to agree with the methods he used, but you can't deny what Dad said, it helped make me who I needed to be."

Sam wasn't happy with what his brother just said, but in a way, he knew his brother, and his dad, was right. It sickened him to agree with him. It sickened him to hear the hateful words his dad said about Dean. He adored Sam. But, if he mentioned Dean, it was full of hate. He talked about what a loser he was or how much he could hurt him. He mentioned Sam all the time, talked about how great he was. And never once did he ever mention Dean's birthdays, never once did he even mention Dean's age, he kept track of Sam's.

"Dean, I can't read anymore right now." Sam confessed, full of emotions. "I can't handle how much hate that man had for you. How much he ignored you and loved to hurt you."

"Sam!" Dean stopped him, "Sam, seriously? I've told you how he was. I've told you many times through our talks over the past few months, it worked. Everything Dad did made me the hunter I am today, it made me the man I am today."

"Dean?" Sam took advantage of the pause Dean took to take another drink. "Why are you so eager to read these? Why do you want to fill your head with all the hurtful memories?"

Dean looked up at Sam, confused. Confused at why he would ask that and confused about his answer. "It's confirmation, Sam." Again, Dean has been calling him Sam instead of Sammy.

"I already know everything that he's written. I already carry all these memories in my head. I have nightmares, nightly. I haven't forgotten. They still hurt. This, Sam, this just proves everything I've thought, everything I've believed is true. It confirms it all." Dean stopped to finish off yet another bottle of booze. Sam had lost count on how much Dean had drunk.

"If it doesn't bother you," Sam continued in a calm voice, "then why the hell have you been drinking so much?" Sam had a point. Dean didn't have an answer.

"I don't know. Maybe because I don't give a shit?" he questioned his own answer.

"If you don't stop it's going to kill you." Sam replied. Again, the look that says he doesn't care.

"Yeah, and?"


	4. Chapter 4

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **WAYWARD SOUL**

CHAPTER 4

"Yeah and? Yeah and?" Sam repeated Dean's last words. "Do you really care that little about yourself?" Sam's voice was full of rage.

The sun was starting to go down outside. It had been a long day for Sam. He was overwhelmed with worry about his big brother. He was full of sadness from his father's words. The last couple months have been hell on Sam. Yeah, he pushed some of it on himself, he made Dean talk to him about his past. He was thankful he had, because now that he had access to his dad's memories, he wasn't as shocked to hear what he had written, it prepared him for the heartache he would find there on the black and white pages.

Dean just continued to drink away anything that made him human. Sam, calmed his voice, keeping an even tone.

"Dean, if what you say is true, if Dad put you through everything he put you through, to make you stronger, to make you learn to fight, to stay alive. If that's all true, if you really believe it, then what in the world makes you think Dad would want you to do this to yourself? I mean if he wanted to teach you to fight for your life, doesn't this count?"

Sam ducked out of the way just in time, as the bottle Dean had just finished went whizzing past his head, smashing on the wall behind him. Judging from Dean's reaction, Sam knew he was on the right path, that what he was saying was making some sense to his big brother.

"Whatever, bitch!" Dean said as he stumbled to the bathroom to relieve himself at the toilet. Sam just rolled his eyes and chuckled to himself. When Dean reappeared from the bathroom he collapsed back on the bed. "I'm so tired Sammy." Sam was glad to hear him call him Sammy again since he was using Sam before.

"Then go to sleep." Sam replied.

"I will, but, Sammy, I'm tired of this darkness I feel in the pit of my stomach, I'm tired of this tightness in my chest that I've had for months now. I'm tired of feeling like a failure, useless, stupid. But, mostly I'm just tired of living this life." Dean's words trailed off with the last part as he passed out. While Dean slept, Sam decided to continue reading his dad's journal, to himself, without hurting Dean with the words their dad wrote.

"I did it again. Mary would be so disappointed with me, I know she would be. The bruises and lacerations I left on that boy makes me wonder just how much he can really take. He took more than I expected him to. It took him so long to scream. I didn't think I was ever going to get the satisfaction of hearing those painful screams. That boy is going to be one hell of a hunter! He's already proved that. Makes me proud of him. Makes me feel like he's more of a man than a woman now."

Sam wondered if that's really what it took for their dad to be proud of Dean. "That boy has been nothing but a girl his whole life. I've tried to beat that shit out of him, but he continues to act like a girl, but out here, on a hunt, he's becoming a real man. Sam turned 5 and wouldn't stop begging to go to school. I agreed to let him, keeps him out of my way anyhow. He's been staying with Bobby a lot so he can learn something. I figured someone in the family needed to be smart, lord knows it isn't going to be Dean."

How could Dad really not see how smart Dean was? "Sam has always been interested in learning. Dean chose to go to school too, he doesn't care about learning, he just wanted to keep an eye on his little brother. Some days, I'm glad he went to school because I get so tired of constantly having to look at that boy. He looks up to me, for everything, I can't handle it. It's just so overwhelming. I wish he had his mom to help. I wish I had Mary, she would know what to do, how to get him to stop counting on me for everything. I've told him several times he has to figure out stuff on his own, he can't count on me, he can't count on anyone but himself."

Sam couldn't believe the crap he was reading. Dad believed the crap he fed to Dean. The same crap that has held him back, for many years, his whole life, really.

"Sam turned 6 ½ today," Sam started reading the next entry, the last entry in the book, "I can't believe it's been 6 years, today, since I've lost my Mary. So much has changed in our lives. There's been so much my sweet, sweet Mary has missed. She has missed little Sammy growing up. He's a snaggle tooth right now, missing 3 teeth at the same time. He's so adorable. He's not much of a baby anymore, it makes me sad to think of everything I missed too. He's so smart. That boy loves to read, he loves to learn. He's smarter than anyone I've ever seen, far more than me or his big brother. The oldest boy, he's one hell of a fighter, one hell of a hunter. I feel pride, knowing I've taught him well. He has learned to follow my every command, without question."

Sam closed the book, finished with the last entry. His big brother still passed out on the bed. Sam sighed while pushing himself off the bed. He picked up all the empty bottles littering the room and threw them in the trash. Cleaned up the room, picking up dirty clothes, he gathered them and left the room, going to the laundry mat nearby to wash their clothes. After he finished cleaning their clothes he headed to the nearby diner. Taking a break from his brother he sat at the diner, eating his meal and thinking. After he finished he ordered Dean a meal to go and went back to the motel room. His brother still passed out on his bed. Sam gave him a gentle shake of the shoulder,

"Dean." Sam said, waking him slightly. "Dean you need to eat something, man." Sam said once he got a reaction from his brother.

"I'm fine, Sammy." Dean mumbled.

"No, you're not, bro. You need to put some food in your stomach." Sam demanded. Dean pushed himself to a seated position, grabbing his head to calm the headache that was coming on.

"Yeah, okay, Sammy, whatever." He said as he grabbed the bag of food out of Sam's hands. He began chowing down, he hadn't realized it had been days since he ate, filling himself with only alcohol.

"Feeling better?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Dean replied as he pushed himself from the bed and headed to the bathroom, "Now, if only I can get rid of this killer headache." Dean added as he disappeared into the other room.

Sam just laughed silently, "yeah well I think that's gonna take a while."

Dean appeared out of the bathroom, freshly showered and shaved with clean clothes, doing a poor job at trying to act sober. He noticed the book missing off the table, "Where's Dad's journal?" Dean asked.

Sam cleared his throat, "I finished reading it, Dean." Dean shot him a glance of confusion.

"Hmm I must have been more drunk than I thought, I don't remember it." Sam just left it at that. "What's the next one?" Dean asked.

Sam broke in, without hesitation, "Dean, don't you think you, we, need to take a break from it all?"

Dean showed Sam a look of disappointment. "Just a few weeks ago, you were pushing me to tell you all the gory details of our lives, now you wanna take a break?" Dean reminded Sam.

"Yeah, well…" Sam didn't know what to say to that, he didn't realize that until he had started speaking. "So, what do you want Dean?" Sam hadn't realized he hasn't asked his brother that in a long time. His brother had been to edge and back and he never asked him what he wanted.

"I don't know, Sammy. I want…" Dean paused to think of his answer. "I want to finish reading these," he pointed at the box. "I want to know what Dad was really thinking. I want to know if Dad loved me or if he only tolerated me because he could use me." Dean's eyes filling with unshed tears. "I need to know, Sammy."

"Okay." Sam said in a disappointed, yet understanding way. "Do you wanna start the next book, or do you want me to?" Sam asked as he found the next book in the box.

"Give it here." Dean said as he held his hand out for the book. Sam placed it in Dean's hand as he settled on his bed, preparing himself for the words that would be read. Sam was beginning to question if, maybe, he needed a drink too. Then he realized Dean didn't have a drink in his hand this time.

"Sam is doing good in school. He's a great researcher. He loves reading and does great researching for us. He's 8 years old now. And, just as smart as his mom was. I still miss her so much! I miss her smile, her soft, gentle touch. Sam has her smile, her hair, her features, he even has her sweet attitude, her temperament. Dean on the other hand, he hasn't changed much. He's still the same asshole he's always been. He's still a good hunter, he's even better at keeping the good hunters around. I can't always fight on my own. Sometimes, I need help. I've found a great hunter, his name is Jacob."

Dean choked on the name, but read it anyhow. "He's a damn good hunter, he's taught me a lot. The three of us hunted today. Jacob said Dean needed some more training, he wanted to be the one to train him. He has taught me so much so of course I wouldn't miss the chance to let him train Dean. He really enjoyed the game we played after the hunt was over. Then when we made it back to the motel. I wasn't expecting to have the night we did."

Dean drew in a deep breath before continuing. "He showed me how to take things to a new height, damn, I never knew that boy of mine could be so good. But, Damn, I sure did enjoy it! I'm sure Dean did too, he came like a damn rocket ship. I always knew he was a damn fag! He loved another man's ass. He makes me sick. I get sick to my stomach just looking at him sometimes. But tonight, tonight he was the center of attention for Jacob. Of course, we all 3 had quite a bit of alcohol inside us."

Dean couldn't help but let out a nervous chuckle. "That boy of mine, he can hold some booze, he's good at that, just as good as he is at holding other things in his mouth. I guess, I should be proud of him for that, but what's the point? He fucks up things enough that he makes it hard to be proud of him. If he continues to obey my commands he'll be saved from a severe beating, not to say the training is going to stop. It can't stop. He must keep up his training, to keep himself strong."

Dean wiped his hand across his eyes. "That damn Jacob, I was okay with having Dean fuck him, I was okay with the both of us using our fingers inside of him. It was fun. But I sure as hell didn't expect Jacob to knock Dean out. He was out cold for the entire night. There wasn't anything I could do after he was out cold. I just finished my drinks and slept myself. In the morning Jacob went his separate way and I loaded Dean in the car and we went our way. I don't plan on hunting with him again, but when he left I didn't tell him that."

"Guess, now I know." Dean mumbled under his breath. He was referring to the fact he didn't know if anything else had happened after he was knocked out that night. It hadn't, but then again, his dad didn't seem to care either.

"When Dean woke up, after I made sure he was okay. I explained to him that, just because I'm not around, just because I may be hunting without him, the training still needs to continue. I explained to him how he could do that, the things he needed to know. I gave him the things he would need to punish himself, told him to make sure no one knew about it. It was important to make sure he kept it hidden. I told him how to hurt himself just enough to keep him strong. How to use what I had given him to continue the sexual pain he had experienced."

Dean gulped hard and his hands trembled. This was the part he didn't want Sam knowing anything about. "I even had him do it, to himself, in the car, while we drove down the road. It was hard for him to get started, I'm sure because he was still hurting from last night. But he did it. He did what I ordered him to do. I told him how to use his knives to slice himself in areas no one could see, how to bleed himself out, how to use different chemicals and household items to make them burn. I even explained to him how to act normal, how to have accidents, causing himself injuries and pain, without anyone noticing what he was doing."

His voice shook as he continued. "I hope what I've told him sticks in his memories. I hope he listened. It's important he remain strong, it's important he continue to be punished when he screws up, even if the punishment is by his own hands. I can't be around all the time to make sure this is done, and he's plenty old enough to take care of it himself."

Dean stopped, that entry was finished. He couldn't see the words through the water in his eyes. He couldn't feel anything but hurt and shame. He closed the book and tossed it on Sam's bed. As if he wanted it as far away from him as possible.

In a low, quiet voice, "Jacob" Dean said, "that was his name, the name I couldn't say."

Sam had no words. He knew what his brother had told him, but to hear it from his father, to get more detail of the ways his brother self-injured, in the name of hunting. Sam cleared his throat, trying to push away the tears that caused the lump to grow bigger in his throat.

"Dean?" Sam said in a half-squeaked voice.

Dean wiped his hands down his face, then through his hair, leaving both his hands behind his head, "Yeah?" Dean replied.

"Do you still… you know… do you still… punish… hurt yourself?" Sam had to know. He didn't want to push Dean into talking about anything he didn't want to talk about, but Sam had to know the answer to his question.

"No." Dean answered. "Not on purpose."

"What does that mean?"

"I may not always be the most careful, Sammy, I may act reckless, at times, but I don't mean to hurt myself anymore."

"Not physically." Sam said under his breathe.

"What? What was that?" Dean's irritation showing in his voice as he raised himself to sit on the edge of the bed. "If you have something to say, little brother, then say it, don't mumble it under your breath."

"I said, not physically." Sam repeated, half shouting.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Dean half shouted back.

"I mean, Dean, you can't tell me it doesn't do something to you, emotionally, mentally, all the women you have one-night stands with. I mean it seems if you were taught to hurt yourself, you know, sexually, then maybe that's your way to continue the heartache you feel like you're supposed to have?"

Dean knew Sam was probably right, in his own weird way, but he didn't want to admit it. He just wanted his brother to shut up, to leave him alone. "You read next." Dean said, looking at his brother, his eyes pleading with him to stop making him feel worse. His eyes, filled with so much guilt and pain.

"Ok, sorry." Sam said as he picked up the book and started reading the next entry.

Sam continued to read about how great his dad thought he was and mixed feelings between hating and caring about Dean. He was proud of him, but for all the wrong reasons. Nothing Sam read mentioned Dean's childhood, nothing mentioned him being allowed to be a kid. The only mention of that was when their dad wanted to bitch about Bobby treating them like kids instead of hard core hunters.

He thought it only taught them weakness, not strength. And no boy of his was going to be weak. He made that perfectly clear. Sam grew older through his dad's words. Became a good hunter, an even better researcher. Sam had it all, the strength, the brains, the looks. Dean, he was just a failure. He really wasn't good at anything, according to their dad, except being a good little soldier for his dad.

He read more passages about their dad enjoying Dean on an intimate level. As he got older there were less and less entries about that. Sam and Dean took turns reading the entries in the book. Neither of them doing much good at sitting still. They both changed positions several times during their readings.


	5. Chapter 5

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **WAYWARD SOUL**

CHAPTER 5

For 3 days that's the only thing the boys did. They would break from their reading long enough for Dean to make a run for his normal liquid meal and Sam's need for solid food. Then they would return to the room to read some more. Their dad's words had them captivated. They were consumed by the black and white pages they held in their hands.

The words hurt, but it also gave them insight into the man they always wished they knew better. Sam grew up through his words, "Sam is getting so big, Mary would be so proud." "I can't believe another year has passed, he looks so much like his mother." "I can't believe how smart my youngest boy is, he's more than I ever expected him to be." "I wish I could spend Sam's birthday with him, but here I am, on another hunt, I'm getting closer to the demon that killed Mary. Sammy has helped so much with the research. He's so smart. Mary would be so proud." "Sam looks more like his mother every day, his hair is so shaggy, that boy needs a haircut." "I can't believe my youngest boy is a teenager already. It's been almost 13 years since my sweet Mary passed. I miss her so much." "Sam is getting so tall, he's as tall as I am now."

Over and over they read about how great Sam was. The great words about Sam were followed by the mixed words about Dean. "That oldest boy of mine, he can't seem to do anything right. I swear, he's such a loser at life." "Damn, Dean, pisses me off so much, all I want is the best for him and he can't seem to see that." "Dean's getting stronger, he's one of the best hunters I've seen. He's almost as good as I am." "If Dean doesn't learn how to straighten up his act, follow my orders, I'm going to have to toughen up my training." "Sometimes, sometimes I wish Dean would have burnt with Mary. Or I wish it would have been Dean instead of Mary." "Life would have been so much better if I wasn't stuck with this looser of a son."

There was nothing Dean was looking for. Nothing he wanted to hear. No signs of love. He was still convinced his dad loved him. Still believes in him. Dean, continuing to drink his humanity away.

"Today was a good day. Me and my boys, we had a successful hunt, killed the son of a bitch we were after. Not without Dean getting himself hurt, of course. That's become a normal for that boy. Can't seem to do a hunt without some type of injury. It's like the damn kid enjoys getting injured. Like, he enjoys the pain. I like that about that kid. He takes all the pinned-up anger out on his kills. That's the way to be a good hunter."

Sam couldn't help but roll his eyes, he knew Dean was ordered to make self injuries look like accidents. "I sent Sam back to the car, told him to stay there while Dean and I had a little talk, alone. I didn't have a choice. It's not like I enjoy it or anything. I had to beat that kid, he screwed up and got himself hurt. I didn't realize how much pinned up anger I had inside. I took it all out on Dean. I didn't mean to. I was only going to give him the punishment, the training he deserved. But, that's not to say I didn't feel better after, because I did."

"By the time I was finished, the boy was a pile of motionless bones laying on the ground. I dragged him as far as I could, until we got close to the car. I made him walk himself the rest of the way. Couldn't let Sam see his weakness."

"Today, I left the boys with Bobby, I told them I was going on a hunt, but really, I just needed some time. I needed to get away from the boys for a while. They are driving me crazy. Sam wants to fight all the time. Most of the time I don't even know what we fight about. Dean tries to stop him, but it's like that boy fears me or something. I don't understand him sometimes."

"I don't understand either of them. Raising teenage boys is harder than I thought it would be. I miss Mary so much! I wish she was here to help me with them. Dean, I can beat the stubbornness out of him, but not Sam. I won't lay a hand on that boy. He doesn't deserve it. He's as hardheaded as his mother was. He continues to be the light of my life, even when we fight he means more to me than Dean ever could. I love both my boys, but there's no one like Sammy. No one like my youngest boy."

There it was, the words Dean had been searching for, the confirmation that his dad loved him, it was there for a split second, covered up by his adoration for Sam. A fleeting feeling, covered by heartache and pain.

Just one more reason for Dean to drown his feelings, to become unhuman. One more thing to take away his will to continue. Dean finished half a bottle of vodka in one drink, slamming it on the table beside him. The loud thud made Sam jump. He could see the frustration on his brother's face. He hadn't realized what he read until he saw his brother's reaction. It hit him like a punch to the gut.

Dad dismissed him more than he had realized. Judging by what their dad had written, he believed everything he was doing was for the best. Sam sat the book down on the bed beside him, raising himself to a seated position on the edge of the bed, Dean had also sat himself at the edge of the bed. Sam placed his head in his hands, wiping his face and clearing his throat.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Why didn't I have to go through everything you did?"

"Because, Sammy, because I raised you."

"I'm as good of a hunter as you are." Sam said before he was interrupted by Dean,

"Almost, Sam, you're almost as good as I am."

Sam gave a half smile and continued. "Why didn't I go through the same training as you did?" Sam repeated.

Dean raised his head to look at his brother. "Because, Sam, like I said, I raised you. Not Dad, me. I chose the way you were trained. I picked the methods, besides, you heard what Dad said, he would never raise his hand to you. There's no way I would allow him to treat you that way. Sam, you were my responsibility. I protected you." Dean stopped to dry his eyes again. Anger filling his bones. Hateful, spite filling his very being.

"Dean, you okay?" Sam asked, his voice full of concern for his big brother.

Dean had shut down. He didn't answer Sam's question. Dean didn't know if he was okay or not. Hell, he didn't care if he was okay or not. He just wanted the day to be over, the night, he didn't know what time of day it was. He didn't even know what day it was. They had been sitting in the same room, on the same beds, for days.

"Dean?" Sam repeated. "You okay?"

"I'm tired, Sammy." was Dean's only reply.

"Then go to sleep."

"Not that kind of tired, Sam."

"Then what?"

"I'm just tired, Sammy, I'm just tired. I'm tired of this life, tired of this feeling. I'm just tired, Sam." Dean was laying on his bed, no will to move. "Hey Sammy," Dean said out of the blue, "We still haven't made it to that ocean you were wanting to see, how about we pack up and head that way?"

"Dean, I don't think either of us are in any shape to drive right now."

As Dean picked up another bottle of booze, taking a long swig, he nodded his head in agreement, knowing he was probably too drunk to walk, there was no way he was going to be able to drive.

"Hey, Sam." Dean said in a monotone voice.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think Dad meant what he said?"

"You're gonna have to be more specific Dean."

"Do you think Dad loved me?" Dean asked, completely sincere with his questioning.

"Yeah, Dean, yeah he did. Dad love both of us. You've said that yourself, Dean. Dad just had his own way of showing it."

"Yeah, I guess," Dean said, in a low, slow voice. He paused and then continued, "Sammy."

"Yeah Dean?"

"Sammy, take my gun."

"Dean!"

"Please, just take it, please." Dean was on the brink of begging. Begging Sam to keep him alive. Begging him not to let him become so weak, so filled with emotions that he falls back into the dark pit he once experienced. Sam took the gun Dean was handing to him, the one he keeps under his pillow, just in case.

"Hey Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you wanna keep on reading?"

"Doesn't matter." Dean mumbled. He really didn't care, he didn't think he could feel any worse about himself. "Go ahead." Dean added, "What does it matter?"

Sam had become obsessed with his dad's words. He knew it was getting to his big brother but he didn't want to stop reading. He wanted to continue, to find out what his dad had to say next. He knew deep down Dean didn't want him to stop either. He had become just as obsessed as Sam. Sam cleared his throat, picked up the book, "Hey Dean, let me know if you want me to stop, okay? Don't let me push you over the edge." Dean agreed and Sam continued reading. What their dad wrote next, shocked them both, but especially Dean.

"I can't believe what I've done. It makes me sick to think that I did this to my oldest son. He's never had a chance to be a kid, well not since his mom died. I took it too far. That boy, he's learned how to take one hell of a beating. He didn't even scream this time. He didn't cry. He took it like a man. He is a man, he's almost grown. So is Sam. Both my boys are almost grown. Mary would be so proud of them. She wouldn't be very proud of me right now."

"Our oldest boy, he's hurt. He's hurt bad. I can't get him to wake up. He's not moving, not responding to me. He's a lump of lifelessness, just lying on the ground. He may be almost grown, but he looks so skinny, so frail. His body is covered with cuts and bruises. I'm not sure how many of them I put there and how many were caused by the job."

"How long have I been beating my boy this badly? I can't believe it's the first time I've noticed this. The first time I've seen, really seen, the marks covering his body. They look like they hurt. Like they would be painful. But he never complained. He's never complained about anything. Not since he was little. Not since I've taught him not to. Sam, he complains about everything, all the time, I swear that boy fights just to fight. But Dean, he's one hell of a hunter. One hell of a man. I'm not sure what to do right now."

"I wish Mary was here to help me. As I sit and write I'm sitting in the middle of the woods. We finished the hunt, I knew Dean was hurt, but I couldn't lose an opportunity to train him without Sam around. I must have taken the training a little farther than I meant to. I didn't mean to leave him so hurt. Once I started beating him I couldn't stop. I could tell he was hurting, but I just couldn't stop. Even after he stopped trying to resist, I still couldn't stop. It's like I blacked out, I don't know what came over me, I'm not even sure exactly what I did to him."

"If I take him to Bobby's Sam will see. If I took him to the hospital I would have to have a damn good explanation of the obvious lifelong signs of injuries, abuse they would call it. The bruises covering his body, they were all different shades of colors, weeks of nonstop beatings. I'm not even sure if he has broken bones, or how many he might have. I don't know what kind of head injury he has that's making him not wake up. He has a gash on his head, it was bleeding pretty good but I think I've stopped the bleeding. I just gotta get him to wake up. I don't know what I'm going to do if I can't. I'm not sure what to tell Sam if I don't bring his brother back with me."

The next entry appeared to be from the same day, possibly just later in the day, or the next morning.

"Dean still hasn't woken up. I cleaned the blood off him the best I could. I changed him out of the torn, bloody clothes and into clean clothing. I was hoping that would help cover all his injuries. It did help. It helped Sam from seeing them. I didn't have a choice but to take him to Bobby's. Bobby helped me take care of him, I'm sure he saw more of the injuries than I would have liked."

"He wanted me to take him to the hospital, but I can't. I know how much Dean hates hospitals. How scared he is of them. He hasn't had the best of luck, he's been hurt worse while in the hospital. I couldn't do that to my boy. His head is swollen. His breathing labored. I can tell he's hurting, even if he's not able to express it, he's hurting bad."

"I wish someone was around during that hunt, someone who could have stopped me, someone who could have protected Dean. That boy is tougher than this. He wouldn't let a beating take him out, there must be something I'm not remembering. Something I did to him. Or maybe it's from the creature we hunted? Either way, that boy needs to be okay. He's the tough one, not me, not Sam, Dean."

"Dean finally woke up today. He seemed scared when I was around him, guess I need to keep my distance for now. I'm not sure what he remembers that I don't. When Bobby asked him, what happened he told him he wasn't sure, that he didn't remember, just the way he was trained. I'm proud of him for that. For following orders like he's supposed to."

"After, practically half the day, I finally got time alone with my son. Bobby had to run to the store and Sam was about to climb the walls so he went with him. Dean looked fearful when I sat beside him.

'Dean, you okay son?'

'yeah, I guess, Dad', Dean replied.

'I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me, I'm not even sure what happened, all I remember is we finished our hunt, I was going to work on some training with you, then you were unresponsive.'

Dean looked at me confused, like he couldn't believe that I didn't remember. 'Dad,' Dean spoke, 'you… you went batshit crazy! You said we were going to train, but you took the butt of your gun and started hitting me with it. You didn't give me a chance to run, or hide.'

Dean was hoping he could stop, that maybe he was able to jar my memories. He wasn't so I ordered him to continue.

'You hit me in the head a few times. I did what you told me, I didn't make a sound, didn't ask you to stop. It was like something else took over, like you had super strength, Dad, you picked me up and threw me a few feet onto the ground. You did that a couple times. You don't remember?'

Dean paused for an answer but all he got was a shaking of my head and a hand gesture to continued.

'The strength you were hitting me with, it wasn't normal coming from you. It was a lot harder than I'm used to. Dad, you scared me. I swear, it was like it was someone else took over your body. You stomped on my head, grinding it into the ground. It felt like my head was really burying into the ground, I don't know if it was or not, but that's what it felt like. I remember you wouldn't stop. I remember everything going black. I tried to fight it, Dad, I promise I did. I tried not to make a sound, I tried to stay awake, I'm sorry I didn't, I'm sorry.'

I stopped Dean from his ramblings. He was trying hard to make sure I knew he did as he was ordered. I'm sure that boy couldn't take another punishment right now even if he deserved one.

'Dad?' Dean asked, fear in his tone.

'Yeah son?'

'Is it gone? Is the thing that took over you gone?'

I didn't have an answer for him, I wasn't even sure what he was talking about.

'I don't know, Dean, I'm not sure what you are referring to, so I don't have an answer for you, I'm sorry I wish I did but I don't'

I tried to be as honest as I could be. He at least deserved that. He just nodded his head in understanding, fear still flooding his eyes.

'Hey, Dad' Dean added, this time his voice sounding tired, exhausted.

'Yeah?'

'You scared me. I'm sorry, Dad, but I'm scared right now.'

Dean admitted, afraid of what I would say, or do, but he had to let me know how he was feeling, that whatever happened scared him enough that he was still frightful.

'It'll be okay, Dean. You just rest now, okay? We'll figure this thing out later.'

I stood up and left the room he was in. I wanted him to rest, to heal, and I knew if I stayed in there my son would fear me."


	6. Chapter 6

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **WAYWARD SOUL**

CHAPTER 6

"That's it, the rest of this book is empty." Sam said as he flipped through the empty pages and closing the book. Dean just shook his head, like he understood, like he understood why.

Dean's tone got serious, "Sam."

"Yeah Dean?"

"I realize now, looking back at it, that Dad was probably possessed by something. I remember that, do you?" Dean stopped, looked up at his little brother, waiting for a reply.

"No, not really." Sam said, "I remember you being hurt, but I don't really remember all the details, I guess I just thought it was no different than any other time."

Dean chuckled, "Dude, our lives are so screwed up."

Sam chuckled back, "Yeah, yeah they are."

Then Dean got serious again. "Man, when we were out there, in those woods, the hunt went fine. I don't remember what we were hunting, but I know it gave me one hell of a beating before Dad was able to kill it. It had these long, claws, like razors at the end of its long skinny fingers. Dad, and Bobby, both, thought this thing was extinct, come to fine out it wasn't."

Dean shrugged at his own thoughts. "Bobby warned Dad about taking me on the hunt with him, hell he warned Dad about going at all. Of course, Dad was stubborn and wouldn't listen. Well anyhow, this thing, it cut me up bad with its razor claws."

"It was one fugly son of a bitch! It had me on the ground, it started, slowly, stabbing me in my abdomen with its claw, taking it slow, it was laying its body on top of me, staring in my eyes, watching every emotion, every ounce of pain. It felt like it was feeding on the negative emotions it was causing. Finally, Dad killed that damn thing. I'm not sure where Dad was during all of it, not sure what the hell he was doing."

Dean drew in a long breath. "But, Sammy, it wasn't Dad, not after he killed it. Its dead body laid on top of me. Dad rolled it off, but held onto its hand, the one that was stabbing me. He made sure it didn't remove its claw from my body. Instead, Dad pushed it in further. Stabbing me as deep as he could. Grinding it into my skin, my muscles, anything it could cut through. I remember, Dad just put his face in front of mine, just like that thing did, and fed off the pain that was in my eyes."

"The more pain he caused, I swear, I could see a smile starting to form on his face. I begged him to stop. I begged him to take it out, Sammy, it hurt, so bad! When Dad took it out, he didn't pull it straight out, he slid it across my stomach, equally as deep, then started pulling it out as he sliced me open. I don't know what it was, but I'm sure, somehow, it got a hold of Dad."

Dean allowed a tear to slip down his cheek. "He smacked me, yelling something about training and not telling him to stop, not being weak and begging. He didn't give me a chance. He didn't let me go. He just started hitting me. He was stronger than I ever remembered him being. Like superpowers, the same as that creature had. He picked my entire body up, over his head, and threw me to the ground, he did that a couple times."

He couldn't help but look at Sam, desperate for him to believe what he was saying. "Dad was a tough son of a bitch, but he's never been able to do that, not with the strength he had. When he stomped on my head, I honestly felt like my head was going to explode, he had so much pressure that I'm surprised it didn't. Sammy, Dad always believed he was doing right. He always gave me a chance. Sure, we can discuss all day about his methods, but it was all in the name of training. But, this day, this day was different, it was like pure evil in him."

Dean paused to allow his thoughts to catch up to the words spilling out of his mouth.

"When I woke up at Bobby's" Dean continued, "Dad's right. I was scared. I was terrified, of him. I was in a room, upstairs, alone. After that talk, Dad just got worse. He didn't care anymore. The evil returned. He would come into the room, closing the door behind him. He would beat on me, or do something to cause me injury and pain."

Dean's emotions had left his tone, he was just speaking, too out of it to care what he said. "He pulled out a claw, like the creature had, I thought he took it off him, but now, looking back, I'm wondering if somehow, he wasn't turning into that creature. He cut me, deep in some places, not so deep in others. He reopened healing wounds. He, the same as in the woods that day, he fed off the pain and fear. It was like it just made him more hateful, more evil."

"I eventually got the nerve up, when Dad wasn't around, and asked Bobby if I could move downstairs, on the couch. I tried to convince him I was tired of looking at the same walls but he knew better than to believe me. He tried to explain how it was the best for me, for rest and all that crap, but I'm sure he saw the desperation written all over my face. He agreed, but not without having me tell him the reason why. So, I did."

Dean paused while he took an extra long blink, holding his eyes closed for a moment. "I told him about Dad. I told him how scared I was and how he had been hurting me. I told him I would feel safer if I wasn't in such a private place. He agreed. I could tell he was heartbroken. I could tell my pain and fear hurt him too. He helped me move downstairs. Dad wasn't very happy when he returned and found me in a less private place. Bobby had told me not to worry, he told me he would have my old dad back soon, that he would take care of this, fix it. It only lasted a couple more days then Dad was back to himself, not so evil. I don't know if it just left, or if Bobby exercised it? I don't have a clue what it was, the only thing I cared about was that it was gone, that I could finally heal from the constant injuries he was causing me." Dean stopped, wiped his eyes dry, took another swig of his warm jack.

Sam took the opportunity, now that Dean had stopped talking, to ask a question he wished he never asked, but was serious about at the same time, "Dean? Wasn't that the way Dad was all the time? Toward you anyhow?" Sam had his little puppy dog look, wanting a truthful answer.

"No, Sammy. Dad could be a sadistic asshole, but this, this was different. Dad didn't feed off the emotions in my eyes. He got aroused by the pain I physically and verbally expressed. That's why he would get such a thrill when he would make it hurt enough that I screamed during training. This look, in his eyes, it was different. It was like he was trying to drain my soul through his eyes. It wasn't Dad, Sam, I can't explain it, but it wasn't Dad."

Sam nodded his head in understanding, "okay." he said. "Hey Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Did Dad, after he became himself again, did he ever apologize?"

Dean chuckled at Sam's question. "Sam, when have you ever known Dad to apologize for his actions?"

Sam understood. He understood Dad never apologized for anything he did to his big brother. He understood that the apologies written in these books, was the only apology Dean had ever gotten, the only ones he will ever hear. He realized at that moment, that's one of the reasons it was so important for Dean to hear the words his dad had to say.

"Sam," Dean said in a low voice.

"Yeah?"

"I begged him, I begged him not to kill me. I honestly thought he was going to kill me, more than just in the woods, even at Bobby's, I thought I was going to die. Everything, everything I've faced in my life, before and after, I've never been so scared. I've never been so scared of my own father. I've never been so afraid of dying. I remember Bobby saying something about infection, or poison. I don't know I was mostly out of it for a while. But whatever it was, I knew it was killing me. I'm sure I have Bobby to thank for saving my life. Seems he's done a lot of that huh?" Dean stopped talking… his thoughts trailing off

"Yeah Dean." Sam replied. "Bobby was more like a father to us than our own dad. He took care of us, kept us safe, and alive. He always has."

Silence filled the room. Both of them, missing the people they had lost in their lives. Missing the ones, they grew to love. Both the boys had difficulty getting close to anyone. It seemed like everyone they ever got close to died. They felt alone in this world, alone, but with each other. All they had was each other. They couldn't allow anyone else in. They couldn't take the chance of someone else getting hurt, or killed. Neither of them would admit it, of course. They couldn't let the other see their weakness, their loneliness.

"What's next?" Dean asked, breaking the long silence.

Sam stood from his bed, digging through the box he picked up the next book. He noticed there was only a couple left. "Hey Dean," Sam said before opening it, "Wanna take a break? Go get some food or something?"

Dean shook his head, "I'm good. You can go get something if you want".

Sammy was concerned that his brother hasn't ate in days, not even a small bite of anything. He's only filled himself with booze, causing himself to keep a constant drunk. That was the only way he could be sure to keep his emotions pushed away. The only way, he felt, that he could survive the torture of his old man's words.

"Well, I'm going to go grab some grub, you want any?" Sam asked as he pushed himself off the bed.

"Nah, I'm good." Dean answered, shaking an almost empty bottle as he held it in the air, "I will take some more of this, if you don't mind." Dean said with a smirk.

Sam rolled his eyes, "yeah okay, whatever, I'll be back." He headed out the door, closing it tight behind him.

Dean was exhausted. Physically and mentally exhausted. He stood from his bed, realizing he was more drunk than he thought, he stumbled, almost falling a couple times, to the bathroom to release all the fluid he had been drinking. He found his way back to his bed and collapsed on his stomach, letting the darkness quickly take over.

'No, Dad, please' Dean begged as he laid on the hard ground of the thick woods. It felt like a knife inside his gut. Pain radiating his entire body. His dad's hand holding something sharp inside of his oldest son's abdomen, Dean had his weak hands wrapped around his dad's he wasn't strong enough to pull it out, so instead, he was trying to keep him from pushing it in further.

'Please Dad, don't kill me, please' Dean continued to beg. He hated begging, hated feeling desperate, but right now, he was desperate, he was scared, he felt like a kid, like a school girl, but he couldn't help it. He didn't want to die, he couldn't leave Sammy, not like this. He dropped his head in pain and he grunted, locking his jaw, trying not to scream as his dad began to push it in further and slice across his stomach.

He didn't realize once the claw, the razor-sharp claw, was removed from his stomach. The pain was still stinging the same. Not giving him a break. His dad, with his superpowers, or at least that's what it felt like, picked him up and threw him several feet away. He hit the ground so hard he was sure he felt the earth shake, he felt his body dig its own grave in the ground. 'You're as good as a dead guy' his dad said as he walked to him, picking him up and continuing the previous action.

After throwing his frail body a few more times he stomped on his head, the pressure making it feel like it was going to explode. Dean, remained silent, in his mind he was screaming, begging for his dad to stop. He did stop, but only to take a fist to him again and again and again. Dean's vision was blurred. He wasn't sure of anything that hit as hard as Dad was at that moment. He could still feel the pain, still feel the punches, it didn't feel like Dad, but there was no one else there, and his vision was gone, everything had gone black, it didn't take long for his hearing to follow his eyesight, then eventually, after what felt like forever. He could no longer feel anymore either.

Sam had returned to the room to find his brother laying on his bed, having a nightmare. He sat the bags down and ran to his brother's side.

"Dean" Sam said giving him a small shake. "Dean! Dean!" he repeated several times, each time a little louder, each time a harder shake to his shoulders, until, finally, he responded.

He responded by jumping to a seated position. His body shaking, sweat running down his face, fear in his eyes. At first, he was fearful of Sammy, but, as reality sunk back in he calmed his fears.

"You were having a nightmare." Sam said, Dean still appearing a bit dazed. He wiped his face with his hands

"Yeah," Dean replied, he had to take a break, even if just for a moment. He had to clear his head, without clouding it with more alcohol. He pushed himself off the bed. "I'm gonna go take a shower, Sammy" he announced as he grabbed some clean clothes and headed to the bathroom. He stood in the shower for what seemed like an eternity, letting the warm water wash down his body, relaxing his muscles, and his mind.

After a while Sam knocked on the bathroom door, "Dean? Dean you okay man?"

"Yeah, Sammy, I'm fine." Dean replied. He stayed in the shower until the water ran cold. Cold like the blood that ran through his veins he thought to himself. Once his body had started shivering he turned the water off, dried himself off, and dressed.

As he walked back into the room his brother was sitting on the bed waiting for him. He had to make sure his big brother was okay. Dean walked over and sat on the corner of Sam's bed.

"Hey, Sam" he spoke, not giving time for Sam to reply, "we have one messed up family, you know that?"

Dean chuckled to himself a little and Sam gave a half smile while nodding his head in agreeance.

Dean continued, "How many people can ignore their family's actions in the name of possession? And, it be a normal thing? You've done it, I've done it, Dad's done it. We all have. We've all been possessed by something, at some point, and we've all had to forgive and forget what the person done, knowing it wasn't who they really are."

Dean shook his head, Sam knew he was right, he knew there was a lot they had to overlook because of their job.

"But," Dean continued, "how do you forgive, how do you forget, when you know that person wasn't possessed? When you know that's just who they are? How is someone supposed to just overlook that part of someone?"

Okay, Dean had begun losing Sam now.

"I mean, that…" he pointed to the book they had just finished, "that wasn't Dad, he had something else inside him, but all the other times…" he paused for a moment before continuing. "Well, Sam you heard what he wrote, the weeks of… bruises, different colors, different stages of healing. I remember that. clearly. It was hell, Sam. Dad constantly beat on me, every chance he got. He always said it was to make me stronger. But, how am I supposed to just forget that? That… that's who he was, that wasn't a possession."

Dean looked at Sam with tear filled, desperate eyes.

"Tell me Sam, you're the smart one, how does someone forgive someone like that?"


	7. Chapter 7

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **WAYWARD SOUL**

CHAPTER 7

Sam was speechless. He didn't have the answers his big brother was looking for. He wasn't sure how to forgive someone. He wasn't always happy with his life. He hated the way he was raised, but he didn't experience the same fate Dean did. He wasn't beat on. He only knew love, that was all Dean's doing. Dean made sure Sam knew he was loved. He made sure he knew he was protected and safe.

When he had nightmares, after finding out what their dad really did, Dean was always there to comfort him. Always there to reassure him when he was scared. Dean taught Sam how to hunt. He taught him with love and patients. Sure, he got irritated at times, they were brothers, after all, but he never truly raised his voice at him, or his hand. Dean never inflicted the violence on Sam the way their dad did with Dean.

Sam turned out okay. He was a great hunter, that just proved it wasn't necessary to have so much violence in teaching. Sometimes, their dad would make them fight each other. He would pull over somewhere in the middle of nowhere, either a big pull off space on a gravel road or an open field, and he would make them fight. Dean knew what his consequences were if he lost, but he wasn't going to beat his brother to a pulp.

He used the opportunity to really teach Sam how to fight. Sure, Dean could have beat him every time, he was trained well enough he could have killed him with his bare hands, but instead, Dean used it as training opportunity, he made sure Sam understood the moves to make, understood his opponent's moves. He let Sam get the best of him most of the time. He would take his punishment from Dad, knowing it was for Sammy, to make him who he needed to be.

It wasn't just about strength and endurance, not to Dean, not for Sam, it was about smarts too. He wanted to make sure his little brother used his head when he hunted. Dad had taught Dean how to take the pain, which only led to reckless behavior. Dean was lucky he hadn't gotten himself killed yet, especially after their dad told him how to make sure he got hurt during hunting.

Sam cleared his throat, "I don't know" he answered Dean's question. "I don't know how someone even survives the life you had, Dean. I don't know how you aren't some broken down shell."

Dean quickly raised his eyebrows then released them, his way of responding to what Sam had just said, his way of saying that's all he is, a broken shell.

"Dean, you… you have survived so much, and you keep fighting, even when you don't want to, you keep going, you fight through. I don't know, maybe that's how you forget? Maybe that's how you forgive? You, in your own way, show the person, in this case Dad, that you are better than the way they treated you. You're better than that, Dean. And every day that you continue to fight, you just prove that more and more. Every day that you push on, you leave your past a little further in the past. You move past it. You don't let it control you."

Another eyebrow raise from Dean.

"What?" Sam asked, wanting to know what Dean's thoughts were on what he just said.

"Sam, I do let it control me. Everything I do is Dad screaming in my ear. I do everything exactly the way he taught me, I still follow his every command, even though he's gone. I still allow him to control me."

"Dean, no, no you don't. Don't you see that man? Yeah, sure, he's going to be shouting in your ear, for years to come, you don't just forget everything you've been taught, but there's a lot of things you do that would have Dad rolling in his grave, you might do a lot of things the way Dad wants, but you also do a lot the way you want. You have branched out, became your own person, well, have started to anyhow. Don't you see that Dean?"

Dean was hanging on every one of Sam's words. Right now, he felt like he had nothing else to hang on to. Nothing else holding him together, nothing but Sammy.

"Hey Sam," Dean spoke, "Will you finish reading them? I want to know what else Dad thought."

Dean was almost childlike, full of fear, scared of the uncertainty that the words held. He always loved his dad. He was his dad, he didn't have a choice, he hated the things he did, the things he allowed to happen, but he loved the man. He was always sure that his dad loved him too. There were hints in his words that he did, but he also always knew he loved Sam the most. He couldn't blame him, Sam was awesome. Secretly, Dean felt pride in how well Sam grew up. He was proud of the amazing man he had become.

"Do you wanna take a break first?" Sam asked, "maybe get some more sleep?"

Dean sat on the corner of Sam's bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his face buried in his hands, he just shook his head no as a response. In fact, Dean was tired of sleeping, he was tired of the nightmares that plagued his dreams.

"You can sleep, Sammy." Dean replied as he stood from the bed, "I'm going to go check out the storage room while you sleep". He started putting his boots on, he looked like an emotional wreck.

"Dean, we can do that later, why don't you try to get some sleep again?" Sam suggested. Sam was exhausted and wanted to sleep as well.

"It's okay little brother, you get some sleep, I'll be back in a while." Dean said, picking up the keys to his baby.

"Do you really think you're in any shape to drive?" Sam asked, concerned about his brother's current state of mind and how much he had to drink. Dean, annoyed at Sam for pointing it out, sat the keys back down.

"Fine, I'll walk" Dean replied as he walked out the door.

"Whatever." Sam said out loud, to himself as he laid his head on his pillow for some much-needed rest.

Dean stopped by the liquor store on his way to the storage room. Once inside, he closed the door behind him. He wanted so badly to curl himself up in the memories of this room and live forever. He missed his mom more than anyone could imagine. He missed the happy little family they once were.

He looked through the boxes, saw papers their dad had kept of Sam's accomplishments. Straight A report cards, student of the week, school pictures of his snaggled tooth little brother. Sam looked happy, he really did, he looks relaxed and stress free in his pictures. His eyes, they didn't hold a care in the world. There wasn't much in that box that belonged to Dean.

No surprise there, he didn't ever like school, didn't do good at it, in fact the only thing of Dean's in the box was his GED that he got after dropping out of school to hunt with his dad.

Another box, it held old bills, old electric and water bills, house payment receipts, all from his childhood home. It also held the papers from when his parents had bought the home when they first married, and papers from where it was sold after Mary died. It had the fire marshal's investigation papers, and all the reports about that night. There were pictures, pictures of the window in their home, covered with black ashes, the glass broken out, pictures of inside the nursery, everything burnt, his mom's little remains, a piece of her burnt night gown, both in the pictures and in the box. It was secured in an evidence bag inside the box.

Dean picked it up and held it in his hands, he was holding a piece of his mom for the first time in a long time. He wondered if that's why his dad kept it? So, he could have a piece of his wife, the only piece that was left. He carefully placed it back in the box and slid it back on the shelf where it came from. He then found a box of letters, some love letters John and Mary had written back and forth. Some from when they were dating and some from after they were married. There were little papers with hearts and pictures drawn on them.

As he looked through the box he found an envelope, it was labeled 'to Dean, from Dad. To be opened on your 18th birthday' Dean picked up the letter and sat on the floor, carefully opening the envelope, he began to read.

"My dearest Dean, we brought you home from the hospital today. I couldn't believe it, I have my own son! You were such an easy delivery for your Mom she had an easy pregnancy with you. You only made her sick just a little at the beginning. I loved to watch you grow, watch your mom's tummy grow. I'll always remember the first time I felt you move. I was rubbing your mom's stomach and you kick my hand. You felt so strong, I knew right then that you would be a boy."

"I didn't have a doubt in my mind. Your mom, she didn't care either way, as long as you were healthy, I agreed, but secretly I really wanted a boy, and here you are. You have such a sweet, soft cry. You don't cry often, but when you do, it's the cutest thing. I love to sit and watch you sleep, it brings so much peace to my busy life, so much calmness. Your mom, she recovered just fine after having you. She's a trooper. She's such a good mom. She loves you so much. My sweet Dean. I love you so much! I couldn't ask for a more perfect boy."

"I'm not sure where your life will lead you, what you will become when you're older. But I know you will make me proud. I know you will be amazing at anything you do. Perhaps, you will play baseball or football? Or maybe you will just enjoy being outside, climbing trees and tinkering with cars. The possibilities for your life are endless. You have a world of possibilities out there, just waiting for you. I know you'll embrace every moment, every opportunity that comes your way."

"I'm excited, and a little nervous, to see what life holds for you. I'm sure we will have our fights, I'm sure we will have a lot of disagreements, but it will make both of us stronger, son. I want you to know whatever life holds, the good and the bad, I will always be there for you. I will always love you. Even the times that it may seem I don't care, I do. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me! My sweet, sweet Dean. I just hope you know how special you are. I hope, as you grow, you never forget that you are special and you have a purpose for this life. You can make a difference in the lives of many, all you have to do is believe in yourself. I believe in you. I love you son. Always remember, I love you. Love, Dad"

Dean sat there, tears running down his face, shocked. Unbelievable. He couldn't believe what he had just read. The first words of adoration, the first words of love that he could remember his dad saying about him. This, this is what he had been searching his whole life for! This is the confirmation that, at least at some point in his life, his dad loved him.

Not only did he love him, but he was proud of him, and he believed in him. He believed Dean could be anything, could do anything. He had the utmost faith in his oldest son. Dean gathered his bottles, both empty and full and took the letter with him, locking the door back, disposing of the empty bottles in the trash, and he walked back to the motel.

When he stepped inside, Sam was sleeping. He didn't even respond when Dean walked in. Quietly, he removed his boots and sat on his bed, he had leaned himself against the pillows on the headboard, taking a few more drinks, finishing the bottle he had been drinking on, he sat, in the silence, staring at the envelope that he held in his hands. Tears dripping down his face, he sat there, motionless, speechless, until he started to doze off and darkness crept in, leaving him slipping further from the day and into sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **WAYWARD SOUL**

CHAPTER 8

"Dad, no, please" "Dad, dad, please dad, please make it stop, please!" "I can't move, I can't. I need help" "I won't let Sammy see, I promise." "I… I won't tell, I promise I won't I know better, Dad, I know better than to tell." "Please, not your belt, please sir, anything but that."

"Shut up boy! If you can't handle your training then maybe I should train Sam instead." "Why do you have to be such a screw up? No matter what I do to teach you, you still manage to screw up, I guess I need to make my lessons a little harsher."

"NO! No sssir, I'm good, I can take more." "Dad, DAD PLEASE! It hurts, please." "AARRGHH DADDDD!" "no sir, no I can handle it, I can take more, give me more, please." "I tried, I'm sorry, I tried, please, I can't, not anymore, not right now, please."

"Boy, you better take this like a man." "straighten out, NOW! You need to grow a pair." "You better run, boy, you better hide, hide really good, I'm gonna teach you a good lesson if I find you, 1…2…3…ready or not…." "This is gonna hurt boy, keep your mouth shut, if there's monsters out here, you don't want them hearing you." "Who the hell told you that you had a right to breath? I'm your father and I tell you when you can have a breath, maybe I'll just squeeze your throat until no air can come in, ever again." "Stop acting like a damn girl, if you're gonna be a girl I'll treat you like one, get on your knees, NOW."

The memories of all the hate he felt from his dad was flooding Dean's dreams. It had no rhythm, no reason, just sections of memories, just the pain, just the beatings. The punishments, the training, running wild while he slept. All the times he would beg his dad not to hurt him. All the times he thought he couldn't take more, but his dad made him take it further. All the times he screwed up and had to be punished. The secrets. The fear.

"D… dad… what is that? What are you giving me? No dad, please, I promise I won't do it again, please, I promise! Thhh…that's poison, Dad. It'll make me sick. Please. I don't wanna die, I'm sorry."

His dreams remembered as his dad poured a bottle of poison down Dean's throat, shoving a rag in his mouth, instructing him not to remove it, he didn't want puke everywhere. Dean was sick for 2 weeks after that. But it didn't matter. His dad still made him hunt. Still made him take care of Sam, and himself. Nothing changed except the feeling inside of Dean. He couldn't even remember what he did wrong. He remembered his dad telling him it wasn't enough to kill him, it would only make him sick, he wasn't even sure what "it" was.

He couldn't eat, could barely drink anything. Everything that went down came right back up. He almost got killed on a hunt. He collapsed, unconscious from malnutrition. The demon they were hunting got his hands on him. Injured him bad. He was in and out of consciousness during it. While the demon tossed him around like a rag doll, hitting his body against things. He couldn't swear by it, he hoped it was just his mind playing tricks on him, but he saw his dad, standing in the tree line, watching the demon attack his oldest son.

Once his dad had seen enough he put a stop to it. He killed it, brought Dean's broken, injured body back to the motel they were staying at. Sam had been doing research and wasn't on the hunt with them. He about jumped out of his skin when he saw Dean. Their dad, he refused to do anything. Told Sam to leave him alone, that he would heal on his own. Dean remembers his dad not giving him time to heal before forcing him back on his feet, forcing him into another hunt. Threatening that he needs more, harsher, training.

Dean's own screams filled his head, screams of pain from the memories. That was the only clear memory in his dream. Everything else was broken, concentrating only on the pain, the objects, the fists, hitting him seemed so real, like it was happening to him at that very moment. Endless pain, endless beatings.

"Dad, I'm sorry, please, I'll do it." Dean said as he took the knife from his dad's hands.

Dean sat on the ground of the forest, pulled his pant leg up and removed his sock and boot. He held his foot with one hand, with the other he took the knife and sliced a deep cut into the soul of his foot. It hurt, he grimaced at the pain, but didn't stop.

"Deeper" his dad commanded.

Without hesitation he sliced deeper, opening the same cut wider. Blood was pouring out. Dean didn't care. He was used to bleeding. Blood didn't bother him. Pain didn't bother him.

"I know I screwed up Dad, I'm sorry. I know I need to be punished. What would you like me to do?" Dean asked.

"What do you think is appropriate for your actions?" John replied.

Dean looked around, making sure they were alone, no one would be out in the woods this time of day anyhow. He found a stick, it was a decent size, not too long, he pulled his pants down, not all the way, just far enough, and forced the stick inside. He tightened with the pain it caused. He collapsed to his knees as he forced it in further.

John seemed pleased with his son's choice of punishment, he told him to lift his shirt, to pull it over his head. He did as he was told, exposing his back to the night air. He couldn't see anything, he was blinded by his shirt, he didn't expect what came next. His dad's belt whipped against his bare skin, over and over and over. Pausing only to tell Dean to force it in further, then whipping him some more.

Dean couldn't hold his composure anymore, he fell on his side, only causing the harsh belt to hit his side and his chest instead of his back. He wasn't allowed to remove the stick until his father said he could, even after he put his belt back on, Dean had to lay there until he was told he could stand up and then remove it.

It was like, they never talked about it. Once something happened it was done, never to be spoken of again. Whatever wrong required a punishment or harsher training, once it was taken care of, it never existed. Dean didn't know the screams, the fighting, the begging, that had been running wild in his dream was also running wild through his body.

Sweat pouring from his body, much like the blood in his dreams. He held tight to the sheets that covered him. The screams that filled his head, filled the silence in the air. The begging, the pleading, for it to stop, being screamed through the room. This wasn't like any nightmare Dean had before. This was worse, much worse.

This made no sense to him, not even in his dream state. Different moments flashing in his head. Different times he was injured, or that he injured himself, without dialog, just the images, and the screams, or the begging for it to stop. Images of him being forced into his first sexual encounter, it was like he was outside of his body, watching Jacob insert his finger inside. Images of the barbwire stick coming down across his body. Images of being tied to a tree and beaten with whatever his dad could find. Images of himself, causing bruises on his own body, whipping his own belt across his back and down his legs.

No matter what Sam did, he couldn't seem to wake his brother. He had gotten lost in his dreams. It was scaring him, the painful screams and cries for help filled Sam's ears. He woke up with the first scream, that was almost half an hour ago. He still couldn't wake Dean. Obviously, he was passed out, but he should have been able to wake him by now.

"DAMN IT DEAN! WAKE THE HELL UP MAN!" Sam violently shook his brother.

Dean was burning up, Sam wasn't sure if it was a fever or if it was just from his dream. Either way he needed to come back around. This wasn't right. He threw his brother over his shoulder and carried him to the bathroom. He had filled the tub with cool water, and turned the shower on cold. He placed his brother in the water, hoping to wake him with the coldness, and if it was a fever, it would help that as well.

It took almost 15 minutes to get any reaction out of Dean after placing him in the tub. He started shivering, curling himself into a ball.

"Okay, Dean, that's a start," Sam said calmly. "You're reacting to the environment now."

Sam had hoped he was right, he hoped Dean wasn't reacting to a dream he was having instead. Sam knew he couldn't keep him in the cold water much longer, it would make him sick for sure. He waited a couple minutes longer, Dean had started to become more aware of himself. Aware of what was going on. He had fluttered his eyes open and closed a few times. He appeared lost, lost in time, lost in his dream, still unsure of what was real and what wasn't.

Sam pulled him out of the tub and carried him to the bed. Once he got him to the bed he removed his wet clothing, taking a towel, he began to dry him off. He wasn't thinking, why would he? Their life was so weird, this was normal for them. But, when Sam began drying around Dean's waist and hips, you would have thought someone shot him with a gun. Dean jumped to a seated position, yanking the covers over him. Wide eyed, fear filled wide eyes. He wasn't completely sure what was going on, but he knew he didn't want to be hurt any more.

"Hey, Dean," Sam said in a calm soothing voice, he was trying not to show his concern. "I was just drying you off, okay? I'm not going to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you right now. It's okay. You're safe. I've got you, you're safe." Sam's reassuring words calmed him while he came back to his senses.

"Ssss… Sammy?" Dean finally stuttered out.

"Yeah, Dean, yeah, it's me. You okay?" Dean still looked like he was in a state of shock.

"Ddd… Dad, where's Dad?" Dean's question shocked Sam. Their dad had been dead for a couple years now, sacrificed himself to save Dean.

"Dean?" Sam questioned, "Dean, Dad's not with us anymore, remember?" Sam wasn't sure Dean remembered.

Dean wasn't sure what year it was or where he was at. He gave Sam a puzzled look, telling him he was still feeling lost, he still didn't remember.

"Dean, you had a nightmare" Sam continued, "it's okay, though, it's okay. I couldn't get you to wake up and you were burning hot so I put you in a cool bath to get you to come back to me. It's okay. I'm not sure what you were dreaming about but you're safe right now. It's just you and me, no one else." Sam tried to reassure Dean as he panned his eyes around the room trying to regain himself.

"You and me?"

"Yeah, you and me, that's it, no one here to hurt you" Sam reassured again. Dean nodded his head as he continued to pan the room, to bring him back to the present.

"Sam."

"Yeah?"

"I…I don't wanna dream like that, ever again."

Sam chuckled at what Dean had just said, "I don't want you to either, man, you scared me."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Dean added as he was panning the room his eyes locked on the box sitting beside his bed. The journals. He was starting to remember now.

"Sam!" Dean said as he started to remember. "Sam, I wanted to show you something, something I found in a box in the storage room." He said as he handed Sam the envelope that contained the letter his dad wrote to him when he was born.

Sam opened it and read what was inside. His eyes filled with tears, he handed it back to Dean. They locked eyes and Sam smiled at Dean, tears dripping from his face, he was emotional, but happy that Dean had a chance to read the kind words his dad had to say to him. Dean leaned back against the headboard, memories still swirling in his head.

"Hey Sam, wanna start the next journal?" Dean asked, his tone appeared to be emotionless. Sam cleared his throat, a little shocked by Dean's request.

"You… You sure Dean?"

"Yeah."

"Do you, I don't know, do you wanna go to the liquor store first or something?"

"Nah, I'm good." Dean replied.

Honestly, Dean still had some booze, but he was afraid to drink it. He was afraid to pass out, afraid to sleep, afraid to dream. Sam got the next book out of the box and started reading.

"The boys did good today, we all 3 went on a hunt together, they get better and better each time they go. They are like naturals. Especially Sam, I haven't had to do much training with him at all. He has such a smart head on his shoulder. He isn't reckless like Dean. But, at least Dean isn't afraid to put himself out there. He isn't afraid to get hurt, or killed. He's a good boy, they both are. But Sam still wants to fight with me over everything."

"Dean follows my orders, just like I tell him to. When we aren't hunting, Dean is usually shacked up with some girl. Sam's still in school. He doesn't seem to have any interest in dating anyone. He's more into his books than girls. Dean left school once Sam was old enough to watch out for himself. I made the boy get his GED. You never know when that might come in handy. Maybe once we catch the thing that killed my Mary then Dean can put some use to that GED."

"But today, I'm proud. My boys done a damn good job and no one got hurt, not even Dean. Oh, if I know Dean he'll find some way to get himself hurt, somehow before the day is over but, right now, he has his eyes on some pretty waitress. He could sweet talk his way into anyone's bed. He'll probably end up going home with her, the boy's 18 now so why not? He's plenty old enough to have his fun, especially on a night like tonight. Everything seems to be going great, it's a good night."

"I can't believe I just took my youngest son to get his learner's permit today. Sure, the boy has been driving for years, but now he's legal to drive with me or Dean in the car with him. He's so excited. He wants to drive everywhere, but he's going to have to fight Dean to get behind the wheel of the car, Dean will jump behind the wheel before I even get a chance. That's his car, he even named her 'Baby'."

"I think if he could marry 'Baby' he would. It's almost weird the relationship he has with that car. Sam must be out of his mind if he thinks Dean is going to just hand her over to him. Those boys, they have grown so much. They aren't boys anymore, that's for sure, both taller than I am. They can sure argue, about the stupidest stuff. But they are close, I don't think anything could separate the two of them."

"They are each other's strength, and weakness. They would die for one another. They would literally put their lives on the line to make sure the other one is safe. I'm proud of them. Especially when they take care of each other the way that they do. I may not always be around, so it's nice to know they will at least have each other. I wish Mary was here. I wish she could see how proud Sam is of his permit. I wish she could see the 2 strong boys we have."

"Hey Dean," Sam stopped after he finished that entry. "Do you think Dad always felt that way? Do you think he was always proud of us?" Sam had a valid question.

"I don't know, Sammy, I think so, yes. In his own way, I think he always expressed his pride in us."

Sam nodded his head in agreeance. "Dean, I think Dad was proud of you, just as much as he was me."

"I don't know, Sam, I honestly don't know about that."


	9. Chapter 9

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **WAYWARD SOUL**

CHAPTER 9

The boys have lost track of time. They weren't sure what day it was, what week it was, or even what time it was. They had been lost in their father's words. Lost in the memories. Sam had a lot of things he remembered too, but he remembered them different than Dean or John did. He hadn't realized, until now, how much Dean really did shelter him, how much pain he protected Sammy from.

The fact that Dean kept locked up in himself, it wasn't because he was being a hard-headed douche, it was because he was protecting Sam from the heartache of knowledge. Dean was satisfied with the way he protected Sammy. He was happy with how well he could take care of him. He wished he could have done more. He wished he would have been able to keep Sam's innocence, but he knew that wasn't a possibility, not with the life they led, but he could keep him from knowing everything, from being afraid.

Dean knew all about fear. He felt it every day of his life. He woke up in fear and went to sleep in fear. In fact, the only time he wasn't scared was when he was hunting, he was too full of confidence to be afraid. But, as soon as the hunt was over, he was overwhelmed with fear again. Fear of what he could have done wrong, fear of being punished.

"Sammy, I'm sorry that I never told you some of this stuff. It's just… I just wanted to protect you. I wanted to keep you safe, keep you happy, any way I could. I know, you deserved to know more than what you've been told. But, it was for your own good. Everything I've ever done has been for you, it's been what I've felt was the best for you."

Dean was sitting on the edge of his bed. Anxiety has been filling him for hours now. Each passing second, he feels more on edge. Right now, he wanted to climb the walls. He wanted to do something to ease this uncomfortable feeling building inside of him, he wasn't even sure what he was so nervous about. Wasn't sure where all this anxiety was coming from.

He continued, "I didn't have anyone to help me, not anyone who was a good role model. Except Bobby, but he was just as much of a drunk as Dad. Yeah, he took care of us, he cared about us, but I couldn't exactly ask him parenting advice. So, I had to go on my gut feeling. My gut feeling is really all I've ever had in my life. The only thing I've been able to trust."

Dean drew in a long ragged breath. "I'm sorry if you're upset or feel like I've kept all these big secrets from you. It's not like that at all. It's just, I know what it feels like to be forced to grow up too fast. I know about losing your innocence and seeing the evil in the world first hand, I didn't want that for you Sammy, I didn't want that for you. I wanted you to at least have a half ass chance at a normal life."

Tears started dripping from Dean's eyes. He had tried so hard to protect his brother, and now, it's all come down to this. Dean couldn't believe how much this hurt, all of it. He didn't understand why it felt like his whole world was crashing down around him, all at the same time. Everything he ever had, everything that he had learned in his life, everything he could trust, gone, crumbled into shattered pieces, spread all over, unable to piece them back together. Dean felt like he had fallen into a dark pit and was alone, unable to climb his way out. The only thing left to do was to admit defeat and lay down to die.

"I know, Dean." Sam replied. "I understand, I really do. But, I'm not a kid anymore, so it's okay now. It's okay to let it go. It's okay for wounds to be opened. I can help you heal them. And you can help me. Help me understand, Dean. Help me remember that everything is going to be okay. No matter what has happened in the past, we still have a future, and we can make anything out of our future that we want."

Sam had moved so he was kneeling on the floor, in front of Dean. He could tell Dean had slipped into a dark depression. He wasn't even able to hide it, he didn't have the energy to pretend anymore.

"Dean," Sam added, "Why don't you try to get some sleep? It's been a couple days since you've slept."

Dean wiped his hands down his face to dry the tears, violently shaking his head no. "If you wanna sleep, I'll go to the storage room, look through some more of Dad's stuff so I don't keep you awake."

"No, Dean. That's not going to help you any. You think I don't know? You think I don't realize? I know you haven't been sleeping. I know when you do, you have nightmares, so you try to avoid it. Dean, you can't avoid sleep. You need it. Your body needs it. Please, you'll feel better."

Dean shook his head no again. He was scared, he wasn't sure how to tell Sam, but he was scared to sleep. He couldn't handle another dream, another nightmare.

"Dean," Sam said, getting off the floor and sitting beside his brother on the bed. "Talk to me man, what's going on? What's going on in that head of yours right now?" Dean was slow to respond.

"I… don't… know, Sammy, I don't know. I'm… I'm scared. I don't know why. I just am. I feel like I could crawl out of my own skin right now. This… this anxiety. I don't know, I've never felt this before."

Dean paused to gather himself. "Sammy, I'm so tired. Really, I just want to go to sleep. I'm exhausted. I've been fighting… this… thing… whatever it is… for months now. I can't anymore. I just want one night, just one night of sleep, sleep without fear, sleep without nightmares, sleep without living in hell."

The tears were falling hard, he could barely make out the words he was saying through the tears and the lump in his throat. He didn't care anymore. He was ready to claim defeat, ready for life to take him away, but that wasn't the Winchester luck. Dean leaned over, allowing his head to fall on his brother's shoulder. Normally, Dean wasn't the touchy-feely type. He hated hugs, hated appearing like a school girl and having chick flick moments, but right now, at this moment, he hated the feeling he had inside worse.

"Sam," Dean sat back up, barely having the energy to push his head off his brother's shoulder.

"Yeah Dean?"

"Do you have my gun?" Dean asked. The lack of emotion of his face and in his voice sent waves of concern through Sam.

"Yeah, yeah I do."

Dean nodded his head, "Good."

"Hey Dean." Sam spoke as he moved himself from his seated position, retrieved the pillows from his bed, placed them against the headboard on Dean's bed, beside his pillows. He then stretched himself out, propped up on the pillows. "This is more comfortable." he said, patting the empty spot where Dean's pillows sat.

Dean rolled his eyes "great, shoot me now!" he said is his usual sarcastic tone as he moved himself to sit beside his brother. Both, propped up on pillows leaned against the headboard.

Sam continued to speak, "Dean, do you remember when we were little, when I first found out what Dad really did? When I found out the monsters under my bed were real?"

"Yeah, of course I remember."

"Do you remember the nightmares I would have? I was so scared. I was scared something was going to get me. I let my imagination run wild. I would have dreams of being eaten by monsters. And you… you told me that as long as you were there, you would protect me, you would keep me safe. You told me I didn't have anything to fear. You reminded me that it was only a dream and dreams can't hurt you. You told me even if it was something real, not imaginary like the monsters, and it scared me in a dream that it still couldn't hurt me."

Dean, gave a smile, remembering telling his brother that. "Dean, that kept me going. That kept me from being scared. I would have nightmares, sometimes you didn't know, and I would wake up from them, sometimes you weren't there, but I would always remember what you said, that it was only a dream, and dreams can't hurt you. I would feel safe, even if you weren't there. But, I felt even safer when you were."

Dean shifted, realizing what his brother was saying. "Dean, you told me that as long as you were around, you wouldn't let anything hurt me, that you would protect me from my own mind, from my own dreams. That I was safe. Well, now I'm telling you the same things. I'm here, I'm here for you, like I've always been, like you've always been for me. And, as long as I'm here, you'll be safe. I'll be here, I'll protect you from the nightmares. You just gotta let me."

Dean leaned his body to the side, letting his head fall back onto his brother. "Are we supposed to kiss now?" Dean asked in a joking way.

Sam jarred the shoulder Dean was laying on, "seriously, Dean?" Sam said, a little discussed.

Dean let out a small chuckle, "I'm kidding little brother, calm down." Dean didn't move, he left his head on Sam's shoulder. His eyes drifted open and closed as he tried to fight the sleep that was trying to take over his body.

"Dean," Sam said in a calm voice, "It's okay, really, I'm here, whatever happens, whatever you dream about, I'm right here, it's going to be okay."

Both brothers scooted themselves in a more comfortable laying position, Dean not wanting to break physical contact with his brother, kept his hand on his arm the entire time. Once they were both more comfortable, Dean leaned his head against his little brother again, still without removing his hand from his arm.

It was like he was his life line. He needed his little brother like never before. He felt like if he lost contact with him then he would be lost forever. And Dean had this fear, this real fear, of being alone. He couldn't handle the thought, and now, more than ever, that fear was evident. Sam recognized it. He knew his brother was barely hanging on, so he was more than happy to help any way he could. As Dean drifted to sleep, he pressed his body against Sam's, searching for that comfort, that protection he was needing.

Sam laid there for a while, realizing how messed up his brother really was. How much their dad had destroyed him. He knew his brother was still strong, he knew that his ability to fight hadn't changed. But, now, he noticed how much he really did have to fight, how strong he really was. He noticed how broken he was. How much his life, the events and people in his life, destroyed the person he could have been. Destroyed the soul that should have been shining brighter than anyone else.

He looked around the room and noticed all the empty bottles Dean had been drinking. He was following in his father's footsteps. He was destroying himself. He may not hurt himself, the way dad wanted, but he was still hurting himself by drinking away all the feelings. The only thing that made him human was lost in a bottle. All the bottles of booze made that pretty damn clear. He wondered if their dad ever noticed how much he was destroying his son, or if he didn't care, just as long as he was a good hunter, that's all that mattered. Dean's wellbeing wasn't a concern, not for their dad.

If it was then he wouldn't be having so many nightmares, he wouldn't be holding onto so many painful secrets. He silently cursed his dad. It wasn't fair that Dean had to grow up and raise a kid that wasn't his. It wasn't fair that he had to be trained so hard. And, it wasn't fair that he had to go through the heartaches he was feeling right now, it also wasn't fair that Sam had to be the one to hold his brother up while he fell apart.

He was going to be the one who had to put him back together when this was all done. Not Dad. He's gone, he took the easy way out. He doesn't have to deal with the consequences of his actions. Dean and Sam were left to deal with that, alone. Everyone they ever knew, everyone they ever loved has been taken from them. Sam started to wonder if it was all worth it. He told Dean he had to keep fighting, but why? What was the point? He shook his head, shook the thoughts out. He knew they had purpose. He knew they needed to keep fighting.


	10. Chapter 10

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **WAYWARD SOUL**

CHAPTER 10

Sam could feel Dean's body trembling against his. He had fallen asleep after Dean did. But, he was on high alert, the slightest change in movement had him awake. He didn't want to wake Dean, he needed to work through this somehow, but he didn't want him to suffer through another nightmare like the last one he had. Right now, his body was only trembling, so he decided to wait, to see if it got worse or if he would calm down.

Dean still had his body pressed against Sam's. He had wrapped both his arms around Sam's arm. He was holding onto him, not wanting to release him, not wanting to let him go. It was like his arm was the only thing saving him from the monsters in his dream.

His dad had tied him to a tree. He couldn't be more than 12 or 13. He tied tight ropes around his body, securing it to a tree. He bound his hands with ropes that were so tight they were rubbing his wrists raw. His feet were bound at the ankles in the same manner as his hands. He shoved a pair of his old, dirty underwear into his mouth, covering it with duct tape. His legs were bent, so his feet were off the ground and ropes secured them to the tree as well. He was stripped of all his clothing. In one of his dad's hands was his belt, the other hand held a homemade whip he had made.

"Get down, boy" his dad said, in an emotionless voice. "Get off that tree, Dean."

Dean fought, he struggled, he couldn't loosen the ropes. He was trying, hard. His dad had started swinging both hands, one after the other, first the belt came flying down across his bare skin, next the whip, without a break between them, at first his dad started slow, giving him a chance. The longer it took, the faster, and harder the strikes came down on him. He would have been screaming, except his mouth was gagged.

"If I was a monster you'd be dead by now boy, faster! Get off the tree faster!" His father yelled at him.

Finally, he had loosened the ropes around him enough he was able to slip out from them and onto the ground, pulling his legs up, he used his bound hands to untie his ankles. Once his feet were free, he jumped up and started running. He ran into the tree line, hiding behind a tree for a quick break, his dad was following, but at a slower rate. Dean reached up, pulled the tape off his mouth and spit the gag out.

He then took off running again, trying to find a better hiding spot. While he was running he was working on loosening the ropes around his wrists. They were already cutting into his skin, with every attempt to loosen them, they dug in deeper. Dean found a thick bunch of bushes, he burrowed his way into the middle of them, they were surrounded by trees, should be hard to find, plus there was a slight ditch, an incline, in front of them, so from the direction his dad was coming, the ground was higher than he was. That will make it twice as hard to see him Dean thought to himself.

He looked up, making sure he was completely covered by the bushes, he was. He quickly and quietly worked on removing the ropes from his hands. His heart was pounding out of his chest, but he kept his breathing even and quiet. He heard footsteps around him. He stilled every muscle in his body.

"Oh Deano, come out come out where ever you are" his dad started saying as he walked around the area that Dean had run into.

Has he finally done it? Did he finally find a hiding spot that his dad couldn't find? Maybe he should just stay here? Maybe his dad would leave and never come back? But, Sammy. He couldn't leave his little brother. How long does he stay hidden for? He never had this happen before. He never out smarted his dad. When he heard his dad leave the area, Dean snuck out, he ran back to the truck. He put his clothing back on and sat in the cab of the truck, waiting for his dad.

Daylight turned to night, his dad hasn't come back yet. He was starting to get worried, then he saw the flashlight, his dad was emerging from the trees. He was shocked when he got back and saw Dean sitting in the truck. He had been searching for him. Worried sick, and that boy was sitting in the truck! His dad opened the door beside Dean. He jumped with fear! He wasn't sure what to expect but he was always scared of his dad. Fear kept him going, it was the only thing that was constant in his life.

"Boy, if I didn't know better I'd say you're damn proud of yourself right now" his dad said in a smug voice, "but, don't forget, I still hold the belt."

He finished with his eyebrows raised as he raised the hand the belt was in, bringing it down on Dean's body. It didn't hurt as bad when he was clothed. But, it still stung. His dad reached in the truck and grabbed Dean's arm, pulling him onto the ground. He grabbed Dean's shirt, pulling it off his back and over his head, he brought the belt down over his bare back, again and again and again. When Dean had started crying out in pain, his dad started kicking his side, leaving a pattern of purple boot prints, once he was satisfied he told him to get back into the truck and they headed back, like nothing had happened.

His mind started flashing again. Just scenes, after that, nothing solid, not full memories, just memories of Dad's belt slicing into his skin, leaving blood dripping down his back, or the whip he made leaving cuts everywhere it struck. Pain, pain radiating without end. Dean's breathing began to pick up, his body going from trembling to full shaking.

"Dean!" Sam shouted at him, shaking him from his dream. He had stopped it before it got too bad. "You alright?"

Dean wiped his face, brushing his hands through his hair as he pushed himself to a seated position against the headboard. "Yeah" he replied, but he still had a tight hold of his brother's arm.

Sam could feel the trembling in Dean's hand as it held tightly to him. Dean sat for a moment, lost in thought. He really wishes he knew why everything was falling around him right now. He looked down and realized he was squeezing his brother's arm, a little tight.

He pulled his hand away, as if he was afraid he was hurting him. "Sorry" Dean said in an almost panicked voice.

"It's okay, if you were hurting me I would have let you know." The boys sat there in silence. Neither sure what to say, finally Sam broke the silence. "You okay Dean?"

"Yeah" was all he could manage to get out. His eyes panned to the box on the floor, "Hey, Sam."

"Yeah?"

Dean had pulled himself up and retrieved the next book from the box, "how about a bedtime story before we try this sleep thing again?" Dean said holding the book up.

"uh, yeah sure."

Dean sat back, opened the book, he was preparing to read the first entry, after scanning over the first few lines before reading it out loud, he handed the book to Sam. "Here, you read it college boy." Dean remarked, his hand trembling as it held out the book.

"Okay." Sam said hesitantly. Sam took the book from his brother and started to read out loud.

"I'm so proud of my baby boy. He's gotten his driver's license. The picture on his license looks just like his mom. I still miss Mary something awful. I don't think the hurt will ever go away. Today was a hard day for me. My baby isn't a baby anymore, and Mary is missing it. I know she would be proud of him if she could only see him now."

Sam glanced at Dean, now knowing why he couldn't bring himself to read this time. "He's grown into a nice looking young man. He's so smart, so polite. He's perfect, absolutely perfect, just like his mom. If he would just stop trying to pick fights all the time he would be such a delight. He complains all the time about how much he hates his life. It makes me so angry. I can't let him know that, of course."

Sam sighed, another thing Dean got from their dad, keeping emotions hidden. "And he doesn't deserve for me to take my anger out on him. That's what his brother is for, he seems to always deserve it anyhow. That boy is as dumb as a rock. I don't know how many times I've told him that. Today, I showed him. I took him out into an open field. I let Sam take the car into town, let him cruise around so he wouldn't be in the way."

"Dean, are you sure you want me to read this?"

Dean replied with a nod of his head.

Sam continued. "Dean wasn't going to go down without a fight, I wasn't in the mood, I was already angry at Sam for trying to argue with me, so I dunked Dean's head in the pond that was in the field, I held it there until he passed out. When he woke up, I had stripped him to his boxers, had the boy hog tied, his hands and feet tied behind his back. His mouth gaged, I really didn't feel like listening to him pleading with me or crying over something he deserved. He should have taught that boy better. He should have taught Sam not to argue with me."

Sam could feel anger rising, it wasn't Dean's job to teach him anything. "I started to remind him how fucking dumb he was, how he was as dumb as a rock. Then I told him I would just show him. We were beside several piles of rocks, all different sizes, I picked them up, one at a time, and threw them at him, as hard as I could. I really didn't expect so much blood. I didn't expect the rocks to leave the gashes that they did. But he didn't even try to get up, he didn't try to get away or to stop me, so I kept on, until I got tired of throwing damn rocks."

Sam shook his head, how was their dad supposed to expect Dean to get away if he had him hog tied. "I'm not even sure how that boy was still conscious. I've taught him to take one hell of a beating, that's for sure. I got out the first aid kit and stitched the spots that needed stitches, when I was finished I untied him and threw him his clothes to get dressed. He pissed me off because he took longer getting dressed than I wanted. It took him even longer to drag his ass to the truck. He knew I was waiting for him. He sure did pick up his speed when I told him if he didn't hurry the hell up I would start on the next pile of rocks. But it was all worth it, because Sammy was so proud of himself today, and he loved having a little freedom, some time to himself."

"I swear, that oldest boy of mine, he's going to be the death of me one day. He doesn't know how to keep his damn mouth shut! He's 21 fucking years old, I thought he knew by now. I thought he was smart enough to keep his damn mouth shut, alcohol or not, doesn't matter. He opened his damn mouth, he told Bobby about our family secret."

Family secret? Sam's brows crinkled, that only means their dad knew what he was doing was wrong. "He told Bobby the truth about his injuries, not only did he tell him I did them, but that dumb ass kid told him about the punishments he inflicts on himself too. That damn boy, he's good as dead in my books! Bobby threatened me, with a shot gun. Dean tried to stop him, he's one fucked up boy, he's the one who caused this in the first place. Sam was coming with me! Dean had admitted I didn't touch Sam. He's only 17 I'll be damned if he stays with Bobby."

Sam sighed. He knew his brother would never leave him. "Dean was free to make his own choice, but we sure as hell weren't staying there another moment longer. Dean made his own choice. He left with me and Sam. Babbled some shit to Bobby about watching out for Sammy. That's my damn kid and I can watch out for him myself, I don't need Dean for that. We drove to a motel a few towns over. I told Sam to take the car and go have fun. Dean had to have known I was pissed, but I don't give a shit."

Another crappy motel memory. Sam couldn't understand how Dean could even manage to stay in a room. "The beds in this room, they sat on a boxed in frame. Once Sam was gone, I knocked the hell out of Dean. He should have seen it coming. He obviously enjoys being beat on, he must enjoy the pain, or he would have kept his damn mouth shut! I beat that boy within an inch of his life, then I hog tied his hands and feet, I warned him. I told him he was going to feel pain like he's never felt before."

This time Dean sighed and gulped as he drew in a deep breath. "I took a hose and shoved it up his ass, poured water through it, imagine an extra-large enema, that's what that boy got! After he was squirming and mumbling in pain, I shoved a plug inside him. It wasn't anything I bought at a store, just some rusted piece of junk that was the right shape to work for what I needed. It wasn't very smooth either, I'm sure it cut as it went in, may have been a little bigger than I thought, maybe a little too big, but I got it in there, I made it work for what I needed."

"Dean's ass was so full of water his stomach was bulging out, he looked like a pregnant man. I ungagged his mouth, of course as soon as I did he started running the damn thing, I made him drink 2 gallons of water. The stupid son of a bitch believed me when I told him if he drank it I would take that out of his ass. After he drunk the water I gagged him again, making sure the tape covering it was extra tight. He tried to throw up, tried to gag, while drinking the water down. I made sure he didn't, after the gag was back in place he was gagging again."

"Dean?"

"Sam. Just read."

"I gave him another beating, just for the hell of it, a few good kicks to his bloated stomach. I removed the bed from the frame and threw him under the bed, hidden by the frame. I told him he was going to stay there until I felt like looking at him again. I warned him about making a sound. I took my belt off and whipped him with it, reminding him what I was capable of. Before I put the bed back on top of him, I told him I'd see him in a few days. I don't know if he was smart enough to understand that or not."

Sam's jaw tightened in anger. "When Sammy returned I told him Dean went with another hunter, to do a job. I had put all his bags and belongings under the bed with him. Sam didn't even question it. I had a great evening with my youngest. We laughed and talked, not a single fight. I can't believe he's growing up so fast."

Sam was speechless. Dean sat, silent, still, his head hung low. Listening to the words his brother read. He remembered it. That was one of those things that gets burned into your brain and you never forget.

"Dean," Sam squeaked out, "I remember that day. But… but I don't remember staying in that motel for long. In fact, I thought we left the next morning."

Dean raised his eyebrows, slowly raising his head to look at his brother, "and, I wasn't, with you." he said slowly.

Sam thought for a moment and realized Dean was right. He wasn't with them. Sam had never thought about it because he thought his brother was on a job with other hunters. "Oh my God, Dean." was all Sam could say.

Dean just shook his head as he lowered it back down. "Don't, Sam. What's next?" he asked, wanting Sam to read on, he was curious himself, he was never sure how long he was left there.

Sam cleared his throat, "Um, Dean".

"Sam, don't."

He didn't want to get into this discussion. He was hoping his dad would answer any questions Sam had as he read on. So, he did what his brother wanted. He read about how great of a time him and dad had, without Dean. It angered Sam that his father could talk about having a good time, knowing his brother was alone, probably scared, and suffering.

For days that's all their dad wrote about, a week had gone by, no mention of Dean, just how him and Sam took a road trip, they didn't hunt, they just drove to look at the sights. Sam remembered those days too. Those were happy days in his memory, but now, he realized they weren't happy for Dean, they were full of suffering and pain.


	11. Chapter 11

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **WAYWARD SOUL**

CHAPTER 11

Sam stopped. He couldn't go on, the tears in his eyes were too thick for him to read the words. Clearing his throat and pinching the bridge of his nose Sam spoke, "Dean, I… what… how… Dean, I'm trying here man, I really am. I need your help. I… I just don't understand."

Sam had to stop to dry his eyes and catch his breath. Dean sat next to his little brother, silent, his head still hung low. He didn't know what they done while he was caged there. He didn't have any idea that they went on a road trip, they had so much fun. He was beginning to wonder if he was the cause for all their fighting. If he really did deserve everything he got. They were, obviously, better off without him.

He felt an overwhelming urge to walk out, to get up and leave, never come back. Sam was better off without him, he could leave and off himself some place that Sammy would never find him. He would never know, he would just think he was missing or something. He didn't realize while he was figuring out his plan he had reached to the back of his waistband, reaching for his gun, his gun that wasn't there, the one he told Sammy to take, so he couldn't use it. Sam's touch startled him out of his thoughts. Sam had noticed what Dean was doing, what he was reaching for, he grasped Deans arm and pulled his arm back in front of him

"DEAN! Dude, what the hell?" Sam sounded angry, and concerned.

Dean glanced at Sam, his green eyes glassed over, dazed. Dean blinked with a small shake of his head and his mask came back on. Back to his old self again, well back to what has become normal for him anyhow.

"Dean?" Sam questioned, wanting to make sure he was okay but he had already asked him that a million times over the past few months.

Dean, knowing his brother needed to hear from him, but unsure of what to say, started to speak, "I don't know Sam, what do you want me to say? I deserved it, okay? I broke the number one rule, no one knows, everything we do, everything this family has ever done, is kept secret. I broke that. I told Bobby. I don't know why I did. Maybe I was hoping he could help me? I really don't know. Just dumb I guess."

Dean paused for a moment to dry the couple of tears that snuck from his eyes. "Sam, it hurt, okay. It hurt… a lot… more than anything else up to that point. I… I can't even explain it… I was scared, alone. I trusted Dad to come back, but, honestly, I wasn't sure if he was or not, or if he… if he would come back before…. Before it was too late."

Dean paused to draw in a deep, ragged breath. "I didn't know what you two were doing." He looked at his brother, almost pleading for it to not be true, "Did you… the two of you… did you enjoy it? Like he said? Without me?"

Sam wasn't sure what to say, now was not the time to lie to his brother. "Dean, I mean, yeah, we did. Dad was… he was like a dad, for the first time I could remember, but Dean, I had no idea. Dad told me you were hunting, if I would have known…" Sam couldn't, he felt so bad, he felt like the lowest thing on earth, that his best memory was one of Dean's worst. "I'm sorry" Sam said as he sunk his chin into his chest.

"Sam," Dean started explaining what Sam wanted to hear. "It's not your fault, okay? Like you said, you didn't know. There was no way in hell I was ever going to let you know. It was… dark. I don't know how long, how many days, weeks?"

"Two" Sam answered, "it was two weeks."

Dean nodded, not surprised by his answer, then continued. "It hurt, man. It hurt like a son of a bitch. But, after the first day or two, it was like everything started going numb, don't get me wrong, there was still pain, and a lot of it, but it was just, like it was there, not coming from anywhere specific, just overall pain."

Dean shook his head, trying to clear his head before continuing. "My muscles were sore and locking up, getting stiff, I couldn't move the way I was tied. My stomach, it hurt like a bitch! I couldn't throw up, I had tried. The gag in my mouth, it was soaked with old puke, the rest I had to keep swallowing back down. One thing… Dad didn't mention… he put a catheter… in… so, literally, anything that he put inside my body had no way of coming out. He tied a knot in the end, so nothing could... come out, he pushed the knot he tied… he pushed it inside… me… just for giggles, just for that little extra pain."

He had started talking with his eyes closed, as if opening them would mean he would have to face the truth. He wasn't ready for that. He was barely able to say what he was saying. There were tears dripping, soaking his lap. The pain was written all over his face.

"There were a few nights… that people… checked into the room. I prayed it was Dad, but it never was. I… I didn't make a sound… I did exactly as I was ordered to do, no matter how bad I felt, no matter how scared I was. Sam, I was scared, I was alone, I wasn't sure if anyone was going to come back and save me. Dad, he was the only one who knew where I was at."

Dean opened his eyes and the tears that were being held back came out like a flood. He wiped his hand down his face to wipe some of them away. He stared off into the room. "Remember, remember when I told you that motel rooms were… they were a trigger for me? That I hated them?"

Sam shook his head yes, unable to even get the word out.

"That's… that's one reason why." He closed his eyes again and gave his head a slight shake while he chewed on his bottom lip to keep it from quivering.

"When… when Dad came back… I was sick, I was so sick. He… he stayed… the whole night… I didn't know it was him, not until morning. He started to talk to me when he woke up. Sam, he stayed the night, sleeping on top of me, not even checking to make sure I was okay, didn't even care if I was alive or dead."

He had Sam's complete attention. "I was shocked to hear him talking. I prayed that he was going to help me, he was going to get me out of there. But, he left. That bastard went and ate breakfast! I didn't know that. At that moment, I was ready to give up, I just wanted to die. I thought he had left again, I was afraid he wasn't coming back. I didn't have much left in me, another day or two maybe? It had been… well 2 weeks, I guess… since I had anything to eat or drink, since I had seen daylight, since I had been able to move my body."

Dean's voice become emotionless, once again. "When Dad pulled the bed from on top of me, the light was so bright, I remember how bright it was, I couldn't keep my eyes open, it hurt my eyes it was so bright. Dad picked me up by the ropes he tied me with. He dragged me into the bathroom and threw me into the tub. He turned the shower on, ice cold. It was freezing. I swear he had to have the air conditioner on full blast too. It was way too cold. He untied my hands and feet. I remember feeling the relief but not being able to move them. Then he pulled the tape off and moved the gag. It didn't take but a few seconds to start puking. I didn't have enough energy to puke, dude, it hurt like hell when I tried to force it up, but I still puked, it just poured out. Then he pulled the catheter out, he didn't even deflate it first, guess just another thing just for a little extra pleasure."

Dean half smirked with that statement. "Last was… I don't know what it was but damn, it hurt. It felt like he was tearing me apart when he pulled it out. After a few minutes I could feel the tension in my body start to relax as everything it had been holding onto so tightly for weeks was released out. I remember Dad saying something about blood and cuts or something. I don't remember, I really don't."

Dean had to stop, he had to take a break, change positions or something. he sat up, turning his body so his legs were off the side of the bed. Tears still falling. Pain still written all over his face. His body was tense, he was trembling, his whole-body trembling to the point even his teeth were shattering, as if he was freezing cold, but he wasn't, if anything he could feel his body heat rising.

"Sam, I don't know where you were. I don't know. I'm just glad you weren't there. I'm glad you didn't have to see that, not that Dad would have allowed you to see what he had done anyhow, but still…"

"Dean," Sam's voice filled with shame, "I told Dad I had some stuff I needed to do. I didn't tell him what, he didn't ask. But, that's when I went to the college, to take a tour and apply."

Dean, looked at Sam a little shocked, but nodded his head in understanding. "Sam, I was sick man, I was so sick. I think I had infections setting in. The only thing Dad was worried about was getting me in shape to satisfy you so you wouldn't ask a million questions. He would drag me out of bed and make me give him pushups or sit ups, anything to strengthen my muscles back up. It only made the pain worse. He would shove food down my throat, that only made me throw up more."

"Then why did you do it?"

Dean turned and looked at him like he was crazy, "I didn't have a choice." He replied. "I could barely stand, I wasn't exactly in a place that I could disobey him. Besides I agreed with Dad, I didn't want you to ask a million questions. I didn't want to answer them."

"Dad told me the story he told you, I kept that story going when you came back. Told you I had caught a virus of some sort while I was hunting, that's why I wasn't feeling well, that's why I was so weak. It didn't take much for you to believe that, guess you had your mind on other things."

Dean stopped with that, he could feel a little bit of resentment coming up. He didn't know why. He didn't know why he was feeling anything that he was feeling right now. Secretly, he had wished his brother would have found out the truth, wished that they could have gotten away, the both of them together. Instead, worse fate laid ahead for Dean while Sam was able to leave the crappy life, at least for a while.

"Anyhow," Dean added, "it's over, done with, what's next Sam?"

It broke Sam's heart to hear him call him Sam instead of Sammy. He knew something was wrong when he called him Sam. He was afraid to push him anymore, so he picked up the book and continued reading. The next entries were repeats of what Dean had just told him, only with less detail. Dad's point of view was a little different than Dean's.

Their dad talked about how weak Dean was, how he needed to make him stronger. That he wasn't anything but a sick, weak, little boy, not a strong grown man like he thought he was. He talked about how much Dean whined about not feeling well and every time he gave him a simple order Dean would complain about being in pain.

"I hate that boy!" John said those words, he said he hated him. "He's nothing but a weak, pathetic excuse of a human, he's not even worthy enough to be called a man." "He's dumber than I ever thought he was, I can see that now, he thinks because he has a fever, because he has a little sweat running from his body, that he doesn't have to do the pushups I ordered him to do? I'm sure my belt can motivate him better than that."

"I swear, if that damn boy pukes one more time, I'm going to shove his damn face in it!" "He's useless, absolutely useless." "Weak" "pathetic" "sorry ass" "no good for nothing".

The words his dad wrote, Dean had heard them a thousand times, but they never hurt any less. Dean knew he was sick, he knew he was hurt. He could literally feel himself dying. He didn't think he had much more life left in him when his dad showed back up. And that was Dad's only thought? He couldn't see past the hunter. He couldn't see him through his father eyes anymore. He was no longer a son to him, he was a soldier, and nothing else.

During his thought process, he didn't realize what was happening in the physical world around him. He didn't realize he had slipped off the bed, onto his knees on the ground. Sam had stopped reading and knelt in front of him. Dean covered his face with both his hands and cried, harder than he could remember.

Sam just wrapped his arms around his brother, holding him so he knew he wasn't alone, he knew Sam was there for him, with him. And, he just let his brother cry. Let him get the emotions, the pain, out. Neither of them knew how long they had sat there. At some point Dean moved his hands, buried his face in Sam's chest and embraced his little brother in his arms, as tight as he could. He didn't want to let him go, ever. He didn't want Sam to let him go. He was so afraid of being alone, he was so afraid of the pain it causes.

He needed his brother, he knew Sam didn't need him but Dean sure as hell needed Sam. Once Dean's tears had slowed, he pushed himself back, he separated from his brother, one hand wiped his tears off his face, the other hand kept a tight hold on the back of Sam's shirt. Dean's entire body was shaking. His head was cloudy. Breath uneven and heavy. He dropped his head backwards, landing it on the mattress he was leaned against, almost as if it was too heavy for him to hold up anymore.

"Www…wwhat's wwwrong wwwith me, Sam?" Dean could barely even stutter his question out of his mouth.

"Nothing, Dean, nothing is wrong with you!"

God, he couldn't believe he hadn't seen all of this before, maybe he didn't care enough to see behind the mask his brother wore every day of their lives. But, nothing was wrong with his brother, he was broken, Sam was there to put him back together, that doesn't mean anything is wrong with him, it just means the situation causing it is wrong… right?

"Dean?" Sam had to ask, he had to! "Do you really wanna kill yourself?"

Dean raised his head, looked his brother straight in the eyes. He saw the concern in Sam's eyes. Sam saw the pain in Dean's.

"Yeah." Dean answered.

No bullshit, no quirky comment, no sarcastic tone, just the raw honest truth. Dean Winchester was broken, he couldn't handle life anymore, couldn't handle the road, couldn't handle the truth he had been hiding for so many years. He was done, no will power to go on another day.


	12. Chapter 12

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **WAYWARD SOUL**

CHAPTER 12

Sam wasn't about to let his big brother go out like that. He was a Winchester and Winchesters go down swinging, they don't just give up. Besides, Sam needed his big brother. He's lived his life without him before and found out a long time ago he still needs him.

He wasn't sure what to say. He was hoping his instinct was wrong, but he wasn't surprised by his brother's answer, it was the lack of emotions that had him speechless. Dean has always laughed in the face of danger, made some sarcastic remark when he was scared, but nothing, nothing but the raw heartache came from his brother.

"Don't worry, Sam." Dean replied, "You have my gun remember?" He looked up at him, eyes still glazed over, exhaustion written all over his face. Dried tear tracks running down his cheeks.

"Dude, you look like shit." Sam said with a chuckle.

Dean just rolled his eyes and shook his head at his brother, "Have you looked in the mirror lately?" There it was, that little piece of his brother, that's all he needed was just a little piece to keep fighting.

"Dude," Sam answered, "I would, but someone seems to have an attachment to me." He was referring to the fact Dean had a death grip on Sam's shirt still. He hadn't even noticed it. "I'm not sure if we're supposed to hug or kiss now." Sam said sarcastically, he had to get his brother back and right now, that meant they change rolls, Sam had to become his brother to bring him back. Dean released Sam's shirt and pulled his hand back when he noticed what he was doing.

"Bitch."

"Jerk." Sam replied as he stood from the ground, holding out his hand, offering his brother some help off the floor.

Dean swiped his hand away, "I got this." he said.

"You sure?" Sam replied, "I mean, you are getting a little slow there in your old age." Sam nudged Dean playfully as he stood to his feet.

"Dude, you stink." Dean said as he made a stink face at Sam. That was the way the boys knew the other one needed a little space, a little time to themselves.

"Yeah, you're not so spiffy fresh yourself." Sam said as he gathered some clean clothes and a towel and headed to the shower.

Once Sam was out of the room, Dean sat on the foot of Sam's bed. He took a moment to catch his thoughts. To collect himself, to put the mask back on, somehow it had fallen off, and he needed it, he needed his mask more than anything right now. Sam reappeared in the room, sparkling clean and smelling fresh, flipping his hair like a girl, acting goofy and prancing around like he was something special now that he was clean.

Dean just shook his head as his brother.

"Dude, seriously?" Dean said as sarcastic as he could.

"You're just jealous." Sam replied. "You could be sexy like me if you wanted to be, all you gotta do, is go behind the magic curtain, turn the knobs and sparkling water will immerse all over your body, leaving nothing but this sexiness behind." Sam was moving his hand up and down his body, as to show the sexiness he had.

"Dude, you're crazy!" Dean said as he gathered his clothes and went to shower next. It took Dean a little longer.

Once he was alone, he let some more tears out. He had so many painful memories floating in his head, he had cried on his brother enough, he needed to toughen up. He kept telling himself to toughen up but for some reason he wouldn't listen to his own advice. His lengthy shower began to worry Sam. He knocked on the door.

"Come on princess, hurry up, I'm starving!" it wasn't but a moment later that he heard the water turn off. Once Dean walked back into the room where Sam was sitting, Sam gave him a look of shock, "Dude, what happened? Looks like all the magic was used on me." He laughed to himself.

"Man, just shut up!" Dean replied as he walked past his brother, messing up his freshly brushed hair.

"Hey!"

"What, did I mess up your perfect hair, princess?" Dean spit back out at Sam as he opened the door to walk outside. "Let's go eat."

And with that, the brothers were back, at least for the moment. They were taking full advantage of a much-needed break from the room they had locked themselves away in.

They both ate the food quickly. They were hungrier than they realized. Neither of them sure how many days they were locked away in the room. They had decided to walk, the town wasn't very big, all the businesses were close together. They needed the fresh air. They needed to stretch their legs and clear their minds.

It was a nice evening. The weather almost perfect. The sun had just set and the stars were starting to show in the sky above them. Moonlight and street lights lighting their path. Dean was dreading going back into that room. He knew he had to, but that didn't make his want to stay outside any less.

"Hey Sam?" Sam turned to look at his brother, "Is it… would it be okay if… if I went to the liquor store?" Sam was a little surprised by that. Why was Dean suddenly asking for permission?

"Uh, yeah, man. Do what you want." Sam replied, pausing for a moment then adding, "Want me to walk with you?"

Dean nodded his head yes, he didn't know why, he just didn't want to be alone.

"Dean, since when did you start asking permission to get a drink?" Sam's curiosity had gotten the best of him so he had to ask.

Dean just shrugged his shoulders. He hadn't realized he did ask.

Sam hated when his brother was this quiet. It was never a good sign. The entire time they were in the store and on their walk back he tried to engage Dean in conversation, but Dean wasn't interested in talking. Dean hadn't even opened a bottle yet, usually he would have one gone before making it back to the room, leaving Sam to wonder if Dean really wanted a drink or if it was just habit, or maybe an excuse not to go inside.

"Hey, Dean?"

Dean was getting a little annoyed with his brother trying to talk to him. Sam put his hand out onto Dean's chest, stopping him from walking, they were at the motel room door.

"Dean." Sam repeated. "Hey man, do you wanna go inside? We can just go, I'll go in, pack up our stuff and we can head out of this town, if you want." Dean leaned against the car.

"No." was all he said.

"Uh." Sam was a bit confused on that answer. "no… you don't wanna go inside? Or no you don't wanna leave?"

Dean pushed his way past Sam and into the room. Okay, that was his answer Sam figured.

Dean fumbled through the box of journals, only one left. He sat on the foot of his bed with the last journal in his hand. He opened a bottle and started to drink, staring at the book.

"Want me to read it?" Sam asked.

Still concerned by his brother's silence, he knew it was going to be a long night. Dean tossed the book to Sam. Not giving him an answer, but, giving him the book was answer enough, he guzzled down the first bottle before his brother started reading, kicked off his boots, opened a new bottle and sat, waiting for Sam to start.

"My boy is 18 today. I can't believe it! He's no longer a boy, he's a man! He's even a high school graduate now! He's one hell of a kid. Makes me proud to be able to call him mine. That young man, he's got an amazing head on his shoulders, he's one hell of a hunter, and, can do research like no one you've ever seen before. I can't believe how fast time has gone by, how fast he has grown, he's taller than me, smarter than me."

"He's the greatest thing that has happened to me. I feel so blessed to have him as my son. Yeah, sure, he gets on my nerves with his constant complaining, he's always bickering about something, always wanting to start a fight. But, that's just who he is, I love him anyhow. Always have, always will. He looks just like his mom. She was so beautiful. She would be so proud of him right now. I could just see her. She would be smiling, glowing, from ear to ear, knowing our baby boy is now a man."

Sam was paying close attention to Dean as he read. He could see his frustration growing with each word their dad wrote, finally, he snapped! He smashed the bottle in his hand against the wall. He was pissed! He couldn't hide that.

"DEAN!" Sam yelled, trying to get his attention, he needed to calm him down, and fast.

"Don't, Sam, just don't okay." Dean said, stopping him from trying to get inside his head.

He made his way to the bathroom to relieve himself as he talked "That son of a bitch! You were never HIS boy! You were mine Sam, I raised you, not him. I taught you everything you know. I helped you with your homework. I taught you to be smart, to use your head and not be reckless, the way I was taught. I did that, Sam, me, not dad, ME."

Dean was back in the room, pacing back and forth.

"Proud? What the hell does he have to be proud of? Yeah, you're great, okay I get it. I don't disagree with him on that, at all, I know you're great, but Dad doesn't know that…. he didn't know that… he only saw whatever the hell he wanted to see. He thought you were perfect. Honestly, that was my fault. But, I would never change that. I'm okay with him thinking that about you."

He continued to pace the room. "It's just, for once… You know?... nothing I did ever mattered. I just don't understand it, Sam, I don't understand it. I did everything he ever wanted, EVERYTHING!"

Dean saw the guilt in Sam's face, he calmed his tone down and lowered his voice.

"Look," he sat in the chair that was across from where Sam was sitting, "I'm not saying I'm upset because he loved you. I'm not saying you don't matter. You do! you deserved all the love and attention that Dad could possibly give you. I'm glad he did, Sam I am, I really am. I'm glad Dad didn't treat you the same way he treated me. I don't regret that for one moment. All I'm saying is… I don't know… forget it."

Dean had stopped, Sam didn't want him to, he wanted to hear what he had to say.

"All you're saying is what, Dean?"

Dean had stood up, turned back around to look at this brother. "All I'm saying is that I… I just wanted, just one moment, okay more than one moment, but just every once and a while, not all the time, not every day, I just wanted Dad to notice me. Notice me for what I did, for what I did that was right, not all the crap he thinks I did wrong, not as someone to be trained, or beat on, but for me."

Dean had sunk back down in the chair. Sam understood what he was saying, Sam had thought it himself.

"Dean, I wish he would have too. I'm sure there were moments he noticed, times he said it, without saying it, I just wish, for your sake, he would have expressed it more, especially here." Sam said as he lifted the book, in reference to what he was talking about.

"Sam, Dad wasn't all bad." Dean continued. "I know I'm in a funky mood right now. And Dad's words aren't helping, but, I think that was a way for him to get his emotions out. You know, Dad was never good at emotions, happy or sad. So, I think this is how he expressed his emotions, I don't know, Sam, what do you think?"

Sam sat and thought for a moment. It made sense. That's why they were filled with the extreme emotions, rather overly joyed, angry, or saddened. He must have felt that was the only place he could release them.

Dean continued, "Dad, he couldn't show emotion very well, you know that, Sam. He had to keep up his act, couldn't let the mask drop."

"Kinda like you?" Sam chimed in, looking up at his brother with raised eyebrows. Dean just shook his head slowly with a little chuckle.

"Well I've learned from the best." He replied, then continued, "I'm serious, Sam, I've been thinking about it, a lot. I think that's why I'm not mentioned much, unless of course he's having an overwhelming emotion, because the normal stuff, the everyday things, he didn't write about them." Sam, intensely listening to every word his brother was saying, understanding what he meant.

"So, Dean…" Sam cleared his throat, "what kind of every day normal stuff didn't he write about?"

"Oh, Sammy boy, that's another conversation for another day." he said raising his bottle for another drink, stopping as the bottle hit his lips, he had taken a quick moment to think, and before taking a drink, he sat the bottle back on the table.

"There's a lot, Sam, Dad was a good man, he really was. He was one hell of a hunter, he did what he thought was best for us. Sure, some of it was extreme, but he honestly thought it was the best. And, like I've said before, I can't completely disagree with his thinking."

Dean paused, really, just to see if Sam had anything to say, but he didn't, still hanging intensely on his brother's words.

"Sam we've read what? 20 journal entries? Out of thousands of days. Life continued on the days he didn't write anything." Dean completed.

It felt good, it felt good to Dean, to finally feel like he was able to think straight, to use the head on his shoulders again, to feel human, hell, to feel anything at all, besides the dark pit of despair.

"Dean? Do you want me to continue reading this?" Sam asked, Dean, thinking long and hard.

"Nah." he said, "what's the point?"

"He might say something that you want to hear?" Sam questioned, "maybe you'll get what you're looking for?" Sam completed.

Dean, looked up at Sam, his little brother, he was a pain in the ass sometimes, he had spent his whole life protecting the kid, who now sits before him as a man. They have always had each other's back, no matter what, they always had each other. Dean had good memories too. He knew he did. He knew their dad loved them both.

He had to agree with Sam, drinking was stupid. He didn't like it when Dad got drunk, he was a mean drunk, didn't think very well with alcohol running through him. But, he was still a good man. Dean hated him sometimes, but he also loved him, and honestly his love for his dad was bigger than the hate he ever had for him. He thought about all the darkness he had faced over the past couple of months, and realized, no matter what he faced, mask or no mask, his little brother was right there, holding him up, piecing him back together, pushing him on, and when Dean felt too weak, his brother was fighting for him.

Dean stood up, dropping the half empty bottle of booze into the trash. "Let's get out of here." he announced, he took the book out of Sam's hands and dropped it into the box, replacing the lid.

"Okay." Sam replied in a half questioning way.

"I'm serious, Sam. Let's go, little brother, these walls are closing in around us a little too much."

Sam agreed, they gathered their belongings and loaded them into the car. Dean sat the box of journals in the back seat. Dean slid in the most comfortable place he could find, behind the wheel of his Baby. And followed the road into the night, leaving behind another town, another place they called home for just a little while. After driving for a while, Dean pulled off the side of the empty road beside and opened field. Sam, was confused. Dean stepped out of the car, opened the back door and retrieved the box.

"Come on Sammy."

"Dean? What are we doing?"

"What we should have done a long time ago."

Dean opened the lid to the box, pouring gasoline over it, and dropping a lit match onto the memories that it held. The boys stood there, watching the fire. Emotions running through them both, like they were saying good bye to their dad all over again.

Once the fire was out, they returned to the car, silently, the roaring of the engine the only sound. And drove away. Leaving everything that box represented, everything those words meant, every anger and misunderstanding in the past. Moving forward to another day, another adventure in the life of a Winchester.


End file.
